Peter Parker Smut - Tumblr Posts

'Tis The Damn Season

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Prompt - ’The road not taken looks real good now and it always leads to you in my hometown.’

Notes - Smut

Months had passed since you had seen Peter Parker and yet somehow he was the one boyfriend who you had never really stopped thinking about. Even after school was done and everyone went their separate ways with new jobs, going to college, enlisting in the military, Peter Parker still crossed your mind.

He was the boyfriend who felt like the one, the boyfriend who when people looked at you they thought you were going to be the exception and stay together forever. You had thought so too but there were too many secrets, not that Peter ever did admit to keeping secrets but you knew.

You had thought he was seeing another girl, that was the only real explanation for why he disappeared for hours on end, never returning your calls and evading questions when asked. You tried to ignore it, you loved him but eventually it was too much and you broke up not long before graduation.

Then you’d gone to college and not seen him since.

It was safe to say that that was one of the best holiday seasons either of you had had._

Now you were heading home for the holidays and part of you wanted to see him. There was a part of you that still wanted to make things work but you knew that was impossible if there was another girl.

Driving home for the holidays made you feel nostalgic. You weren’t even too far away from home but you had moved out and headed further into New York and hadn’t really been back home since. Maybe you’d bump into Peter, maybe you could call things even just for the holidays. Pretend he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

The nostalgic feeling within you only grew as you drove through your hometown and deciding you weren’t needed at home just yet you took a detour. It wasn’t long before you parked your car outside Midtown school, watching as a flow of students came out.

You couldn’t help but smile as you remembered when that was you and Peter, he’d meet you at your locker when classes ended and take your hand, leading you out of the building and the two of you either went to one of your houses or decided to go on a date. Your favourites included bowling, golfing and going to the movies with him, his arm wrapped around your shoulders as you tucked yourself against his chest.

It was the safest feeling in the world.

You didn’t know how long you sat there, lost in the memories but eventually you decided it was time to go. You weren’t quite ready to go home yet so you drove to a small cafe you and Peter had found together and hesitated for a moment before getting out of your car and heading inside.

Soon you were sitting at a table facing out into the street with a hot drink and a muffin in front of you. As you sat sipping your drink, you couldn’t help but smile at the memories of all the times you and Peter had come here, hiding away from the adults and just being in each other’s company.

One night you remembered vividly, it was shortly after Uncle Ben had died. Peter had been a mess and you had tried to be there for him but he pushed you, pushed everyone away. A few weeks had passed with only minimal contact with him before he knocked on your bedroom window.

You had jumped out of your skin seeing him on your fire escape, wondering how on earth he had gotten up so high but those thoughts were shoved to the back of your mind as you took in the cuts and bruises that covered his face.

“What happened?” You asked softly after opening your window for him. You watched as he gingerly climbed through, wincing as he straightened up. Once he was fully inside you could see his eyes were wet and watery.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered instead of answering, moving forward to rest his head on your shoulder. You saw him wince as he did so led him to the bed. Peter seemed thankful as he cuddled into your stomach and you ran your fingers gently through his hair. “I’m sorry for ignoring you.”

“Hey, it’s ok, you were going through a lot.” You told him honestly. You had hated the fact you couldn’t comfort him whilst he was mourning the death of Ben but you understood people grieved differently. All you could do was be there for him when he came knocking on your door...or your window.

“What happened?” You had asked again and he turned his head slightly to look up at you.

“I had a fight with May.” Peter mumbled against you. Before you could say anything Peter was suddenly sitting up and grabbing your hand. “Let’s go.” He said.

“Go?” You questioned, “Go where?”

“To the cafe.” Peter said. “Please Y/N.” Was all he needed to say before you were shrugging on a coat and letting him lead you to the cafe.

The two of you had stayed there for hours, you had let Peter lead the conversation not knowing where to go considering he was still obviously upset. You had tried to ask him what had happened with May but he just shook his head and when you brought up the bruises he shut down completely.

Eventually Peter walked you home and the next day everything went back to normal between the two of you.

Sitting here now felt odd, it felt like something was missing.

And then suddenly it wasn’t missing.

“Y/N?” You heard someone say. You turned your head from where you had been gazing out of the window and saw Peter Parker stood next to you holding a to-go cup.

He looked...good. He looked really good and it took a moment for you to reply.

“Peter. Hi!” You greeted, unsure of what to do but Peter looked confused too.

“Hey, how’ve you been? You look great.” He told you and you couldn’t help but smile as he blushed.

“Thanks, I’m good. How’re you? You’re looking good too.” You smiled. It was strange seeing Peter, he hadn’t changed too much, a bit more muscle here and there but ultimately he still looked like the same Peter you had left behind.

Your smile brightened as he blushed even more as he ran a hand through his hair.

“I,um, thank you.” He stammered, clearly his throat before continuing, “I’m good too.”

There was a slight pause as you debated whether you wanted to ask him to join you before you just shook your head. You had wanted to bump into him, turning him away now would be foolish.

“Do you have anywhere to be?” You asked and felt relieved as he shook his head no. “Care to join me then? Gotta say I’ve missed you.” Peter sat down and looked at you shyly before speaking.

“I’ve missed you too.” He admitted.

The two of you sat there for hours and it was like no time had passed where you had been apart. This, this felt natural, it felt right to be sat with Peter talking about everything and nothing at the same time. It was easy to keep ordering drinks, easy to keep talking, easy to remember you’d never fallen out of love with him.

The two of you would’ve sat there all night talking, reminiscing, laughing together if your mom didn’t call you, worried about where you were. You gave Peter a sheepish look as you told her you had arrived a while ago but ended up bumping into an old friend.

“I didn’t mean to keep you for so long.” You apologised as the two of you stood up. He smiled over at you, cursing himself for letting his secret get between the two of you.

“Don’t be, I liked seeing you today.” He told you before pausing for a moment, “Aunt May’s out for the holidays, so if you wanted to stop by…” He trailed off and you couldn’t help but flush slightly as you stepped out of the cafe.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You told him with a smile and Peter couldn’t help but grin. There was an ache in your chest as you looked at him, god you missed him.

Peter walked you over to your car and the two of you paused for a second, not sure how to say goodbye and before you could say anything Peter leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“See you soon, Y/N/N.” He whispered before pulling away.

The blush on your cheeks must’ve been obvious and you both knew it wasn’t from the cold air.

“See you Peter.” You whispered back, watching as he walked away.

-

Three days had passed since you first saw Peter at the cafe and you had yet to go to his house. Despite the cheery holiday music, the twinkling lights everywhere you looked, the smell of cookies, all you could think about was Peter’s invitation.

It hadn’t escaped your families notice either, the distant far of looks, the continuous picking up of your cell phone, they noticed it all but you’d told them repeatedly you were fine and it was eventually dropped.

No matter what you were doing your thoughts always led back to Peter Parker.

Today you decided to stop overthinking it and just go. You got out of bed with a groan and took your time getting ready. Before long you were showered, dressed and ready to go but you couldn’t help but hesitate at the front door.

“It’s Peter isn’t it?” Your mom asked, appearing from the kitchen. You debated on whether you wanted to tell her or not but decided she’d probably have a better opinion on it than you.

With a sigh you nodded, “It’s Peter.”

“You two,” she said, smiling fondly. She had always been a fan of Peter, he was the most perfect boyfriend a mother could ask for, “you miss him.” She didn’t ask but she stated it like it was the most obvious fact in the world.

“Yeah, I miss him.” You agreed because what else could you do?

“Go to him then,” She urged, “You and Peter had something special. I know you thought there was another girl but trust me when I say that boy would never even dream of cheating on you. It’s rare to find someone who looks at you the way Peter does and it’s even rarer for you to look at him with the same look, trust me. Go and see him.”

You were at a loss for words so instead you hugged her quickly murmuring a quick ‘thank you’ before heading out of the door and into your car before you could think too much of it.

It wasn’t long until you were at Peter’s house. Thankfully the lights were on as you hadn’t even considered texting ahead.

The walk up to Peter’s door felt like they took forever and no time at all and before you knew it there stood Peter with a shy smile on his face.

“Y/N,” He greeted happily, “you came.”

“Sorry I didn’t text.” You said, smiling back at him as he opened the door wider to let you in.

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’m glad you're here.” He told you as he led you to the kitchen.

The house hadn’t changed much in the few months you’d been gone. The kitchen was still the same as were the pictures decorating the house, you smiled sadly as you saw one of Ben and May smiling together.

Everything looked the same, everything still felt like home.

“Can I get you a drink?” Peter asked when a few moments of silence had passed as he let you look around.

Soon the two of you were sat on the sofa, drinks on the coffee table and a random channel playing on the tv. Peter turned to face you and hesitated, he had thought about telling you his secret for a long time, if there was anyone he could trust it was you. It wasn’t a trust issue though, it was the fact he didn’t want to risk putting you in harm's way, if you ever got hurt because of him, he wouldn’t, he couldn’t forgive himself. But if he wanted even half a chance of being with you again, he knew he had to.

“Is everything ok?” You asked when it looked like Peter was absorbed by the thoughts running through his head. You smiled as he shook his head slightly.

“Sorry, yeah, no, I just,” Here Peter let his head fall against the back of the sofa and groaned, causing you to giggle. “God, I’m really bad at this, Y/n/n, how did I ever get so lucky in the first place?” He asked and this time you laughed.

“I think I remember a lot of stammering and blushing back then too.” You teased him, causing him to cover his face with his hands, “And then there was the time you gave me a nosebleed whilst trying to impress me, I think that’s when I really fell hard for you.” You laughed as he moved his hands.

“Oh I did make you bleed didn’t I?” He gasped, remembering how when he tried to teach you to skateboard it had ended with his knee connecting with your nose. “Seriously, why did you ever date me?” He said, the pair of you laughing and moving close together.

“What can I say? I was gone for you the moment I met you, no amount of nosebleeds would’ve made me stop.” You told him, watching as his eyes flicked down to your lips.

“I never stopped liking you.” He admitted quietly, almost whispering the confession.

“I never stopped liking you either.” You replied in the same tone, watching as he leaned closer.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” Peter whispered, lifting his hand to cup your cheek, letting his thumb trace along your skin.

“Please don’t stop.” You said as you leaned into the touch and that was all the confirmation Peter needed before he leaned in and connected your lips together.

The kiss was slow and gentle, it felt almost like a first kiss, the kind where you’re hesitant but you know you want to spend forever kissing this person, it was the kind of kiss that gave you butterflies.

However it quickly turned desperate, it was a kiss that could be described as hungry, as needy. The two of you invading each other's space, getting as close to each other as possible. Neither of you could stop your hands from exploring the other's body, your hands on Peter’s chest, his fingertips running down your back causing you to arch into the touch. The kiss felt like it set you on fire, Peter’s very touch electric to your skin as warmth spread throughout your body. This kiss was for every kiss that was missed in the months you’d been apart, this kiss was intimate, it was everything you had wanted and needed.

You ended up on Peter’s lap during this and couldn’t help but grind against him causing Peter to moan into the kiss.

“Fuck baby.” Peter groaned as the two of you pulled away for some air.

“I told you I missed you.” You murmured against his skin as you trailed kisses from his jawline to his neck causing him to muffle another groan.

“Y/N,” He began before taking your chin and pulling you back up so he could kiss you again. You couldn’t help but moan into the kiss, grinding against his lap as you kissed him back with the same desperate need.

Before you could even register what had happened, Peter was stood up, holding you against him. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled back as he started walking towards the stairs.

“No, no, baby, kiss me.” He whined as he leaned forward and you laughed as you pressed your lips together. You didn’t know how Peter managed to get up the stairs without pausing but somehow he managed and you were quickly dropped down on the bed with Peter hovering above you.

“God baby,” Peter said, leaning closer so he could press hurried kisses against your neck trailing down to your chest. His hands began to trail over your clothed breasts causing you to groan and arch up into his touch. “I missed you so damn much,” He told you as he trailed kisses further down, mouthing at your breast through the shirt you wore making you moan and whine.

“Peter,” you whimpered as he ran his tongue across the material, “please.”

“Anything for you, baby.” He breathed out, “anything.” After that he helped pull your shirt off over your head before attaching himself to your right breast, taking it into his mouth, shamelessly sucking on it. He let his hand trail up to the other one and started playing with it causing you to throw your head back and arching into the touch.

God, Peter loved hearing you moan for him.

Peter let his hand trail further down, letting his fingers brush in between your legs, smirking against your breast as you bucked up suddenly.

“Peter,” you whined causing him to chuckle but he pulled away causing you to whimper at the loss. He sank further down the bed, trailing kissing down from your breasts, onto your stomach and hips before he settled in between your legs, pressing kisses against your jean covered thighs.

He couldn’t help but smirk as you let out a string of incomprehensible words as he licked in between your legs through your jeans, letting his hand trail ever so softly over the clothes.

“Peter,” You groaned again, the only thing you were capable of saying was his name causing him to press another kiss to your thigh before he pulled your jeans from you before settling back between your legs, smiling at the wetness that stained your underwear.

“So good for me, baby.” He murmured, leaning forward and licking you through your underwear causing you to moan, pressing further into him, trying to get as much friction as you could.

“Peter, Peter, please, need you, Peter.” You whimpered and whined as he continued on like that for a good few moments before he finally pulled your underwear off too, throwing them off to the side somewhere.

“Shh, shh, I got you,” Peter murmured as he settled back down in front of you, “I know what you need, baby.”

You whimpered as you felt his hot breath between your legs, moaned as he leaned closer and lightly licked you before attaching his mouth to it and sucking. It was like your body lit up, sparks of pleasure ran throughout your body causing your thighs to clench but Peter was there holding them down, holding you open.

As he continued sucking on your clit, his fingers trailed up and you let out a loud, filthy moan as you felt his finger push into you causing Peter to chuckle against your clit and you moaned even louder as a result of the vibrations from it.

As your moans grew louder and more frantic Peter pushed his fingers deeper into you, curling them as he found your g-spot, he sped up and alternated between sucking and licking at your clit causing your hands to grip his hair tightly, holding him in place.

He stayed where you held him, his mouth desperately working your clit as his finger sped up. He felt you withering against him, frantically trying to find a release as Peter continued assaulting your clit. When you began moaning Peter’s name repeatedly, almost like a prayer, he pulled away from you with a smirk.

“Pete,” you whined, your thighs bucking as you tried to chase after him.

“Not just yet, baby, I wanna feel myself in you.” He whispered as he leaned down and smashed your lips together in a rough, dirty kiss. You groaned as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

It wasn’t long before Peter was lining himself up against you and pushed into you without warning causing you to let out a loud moan, scraping your fingernails down his back.

“Fuck.” Peter groaned as he leaned down to bury his face in your neck, biting down as he sunk further into you causing you to moan and screw your eyes shut.

Peter rocked himself until he was buried deep inside you and paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust. When you nodded, he pulled almost all the way out before slamming into you causing you to cry out, your back arching off of the bed as he repeated the action continuously at a fast pace, each time hitting that sweet spot inside of you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, Pete, yes, fuck, right there, yes!” You continued to moan, not caring in the slightest how loud you were being. Peter loved it, he loved when you lost control like this, he loved when everything went out the window and you were as loud as you could be. It did something to him he couldn’t explain and it only made him speed up, his hand coming down to rub against your clit.

As Peter slammed into you and rubbed your clit, your were moaning louder than you’d done in a long time, letting your hands fall onto the bed as you gripped the bedsheets. The sound of the bed frame smacking against the wall and your loud moans only fuelled Peter on more.

“Please Peter, I need to cum, please.” You begged as you felt your orgasm getting closer causing Peter to groan and slam into you harder and faster, his hand speeding up to. The pace made you cry out, it was almost too much but Peter had always known what you needed.

It wasn’t long before Peter felt you cumming on his dick causing him to moan and buck into you, pressing deeper inside you as he too came inside of you.

The two of you stay where you are for a while, neither one of you ready to move. The only sound to be heard was the heavy panting as the two of you calmed down. Your hands were still gripping the sheets and your eyes were still screwed shut causing Peter to smile before he gently pulled out of you, almost moaning at the sight of cum dripping out of your used cunt, before he gently took both of your hands in his causing you to lazily blink up at him.

“You with me, baby?” He asked quietly, smiling as you sluggishly nodded at him. He’d really done a number on you. “Good girl, I’ll be right back, gonna clean you up.” He murmured before heading to the bathroom to get a damp washcloth and on his way back he grabbed one of his clean shirts for you.

“Good girl,” He praised in a hushed tone as he made quick but careful work of cleaning you and the bed up before he helped you pull the shirt over your body.

After he made sure everything was tidied away he slid into bed with you, smiling as you automatically curled up against him. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your head before letting himself drift off to sleep like you had.

God, he’d missed you.

-

You woke up slowly in the morning, you felt Peter underneath you and felt his fingers lazily tracing unknown figures into your skin. Before drawing his attention to the fact you were awake, you let your eyes stay shut as you thought back to last night.

Did you regret it? Absolutely not.

Did you know what it meant? Also no.

You knew you wanted Peter back but there was still that question lingering in the back of your mind, what was he hiding from you?

You had to find out, it was the only way you could be with him.

If that’s what he wanted.

You groaned as you stirred, blinking lazily up at Peter who smiled down at you softly, his expression full of love. It made you pause for a moment before smiling back at him.

“How you feeling today?” He asked and you winced as you shifted. “I didn’t mean to be so rough.” He added.

“No, no, it was good, I enjoyed it.” You told him watching as he smirked, “Oh shut up.” You laughed, hitting his chest lightly.

“I didn’t say anything.” He laughed before pressing a kiss against your head and then pausing. “Sorry, I, um, I.” Peter stammered and you felt just as confused about where you stood with each other.

“You wanna go to the park today?” You asked, saving him and yourself from the awkwardness that was starting to settle. “It should be pretty quiet.” It was true, you could see the snow falling from outside the window.

Peter shot up a confused look before he agreed and after the two of you were showered and dressed you left the house and began walking down to the park. The walk was nice, Peter and you pretty much staying silent though your hands brushed together a few times.

When you got to the park you weren’t surprised to see that it was in fact empty, the snow was falling and it was still reasonably early considering school was out.

For the entire walk to the park you had gone over what to say so many times and you still had nothing. All you knew was that you wanted to be with Peter but you couldn’t, not with secrets and lies pulling you apart.

“Listen,” You began after minutes of silence had passed since you and Peter sat down. “I never stopped loving you, even when I broke up with you it wasn’t because I fell out of love. I wanted to be with you, I still want to be with you. You were, you are everything to me. But there were so many lies, Peter.” You rushed out watching as Peter looked down and fiddled with the hem of his jacket.

“I know,” he whispered, “I know I lied to you. You were the one person I didn’t want to lie to, ever, the one person who I wanted to tell but I couldn’t, Y/N/N, I couldn’t.” You began to worry now, wondering what on earth this secret was.

“You have to tell me, Pete, please just tell me.” You begged, looking at him with watery eyes. When Peter looked up at you he felt his heart clench and he screwed his eyes shut before nodding.

“Ok, ok, Y/N, I’ll tell you but you have to promise no matter what happens, even if you walk away today, this stays between us.” He pleaded, looking at you with scared, wide eyes.

You nodded immediately, of course you would keep whatever secret he was hiding.

“I’m Spider-Man.” He choked out, turning away from you.

Your eyes widened as you looked at him in shock. He was Spider-Man, the Spider-Man who you had seen jump off of skyscrapers and join police chases to fight bad guys, the Spider-Man who risked his own safety in order to protect the citizens of New York.

“What do you mean your Spider-Man?” You asked and it took Peter some time before he managed to tell you the full story of how he had become Spider-Man and why he did what he did.

“Do you hate me?” He asked tearfully, causing you to smile and cup his cheek before pulling him in for a soft kiss.

“No.” You whispered easily, “Part of me isn’t even really shocked to find out it’s you. I mean who else is so selfless to put their own needs aside to protect the little guys, huh?” You smiled, causing him to give you a small, bashful smile in return.

“Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend again?” He asked hesitantly and you laughed slightly.

“Yes, Pete, I’d love nothing more than to be your girlfriend again.” You grinned as he pulled you in for another kiss.

It was safe to say that that was one of the best holiday seasons either of you had had.

_________________

Andrew Garfield's Peter Parker taglist -

@haroldpotterson, @imjustassaneasyou, @dindjarinsspouse, @rottenstyx

ONLY EXCEPTION.

I have no idea what song u should listen to, so just read it and decide it urself ig??? idk

pairings : mcu!peter parker x fem!reader

summary : peter is the only exception.

warnings : shitty home life.

a/n : this fic is kinda based on me just not the meeting peter and avengers and the ages lols!! and tony being the readers father figure >>> also pls if this kinda hints at the reader having daddy issues im so sorry 😭😭 and theres also not a lot of dialogue cause i work better that way.

You didn't have a very good illustration of love, your parents got divorced when you were about 7 years old, before that, they fought for about 3 years of your life. You didn't remember clearly what it was about, all you remembered was, your dad cheating on her, your mom seeing other guys behind his back, and all that.

Then, when they got divorced, you stayed with your mom, only seeing your dad once every two weeks, she found a new guy, she loved him, he loved her, at least before they got married, they fought almost every night, ignored each other, they can't have one single conversation without it turning into fights.

So, since then, you hated- no despised the idea of love, but at the same time, you craved love, you needed it. You went to every guy that could give you attention and validation or just love, but when they wanted something more serious, you ran. You couldn't handle it, not after seeing what your parents went through.

Then, you met the avengers, tony to be specific, you met him when you were 14 years old, he became like a father to you, he gave you food, drinks, pocket money, protection, love, not that kind, the love a father is supposed to give you.

You met peter through him, he told you that he was going to recruit someone your age and maybe you could get along well with him, and you did, you guys were best friends, inseparable, you two were a package deal, then you caught feelings for him, because he gave you attention, that was directed to you and only you, and he also gave you validation, and you liked that, and well him.

Then a couple months later he asked you out, you were skeptical because you didn't want to get hurt, so you contemplated on saying no, but he treated you right, he listened to you, he was there for you, he was your shoulder to cry on, he was everything you ever wanted but you were scared. You said yes anyways.

So now, you guys have been dating for over a year, and you've been the happiest you've ever been.

"Hey, parker" you greeted as you walked into his room in the avengers compound, "Hey, sunshine" he greets back, turning around his chair to look at you, smiling. "What're you doing" you asked, a sigh leaving your lips as you set yourself down on his oh so comfortable bed, "I was studying for a math test i have tomorrow, you should too, you know" He answered, "We have different schedules, babe, i already did my test like 2 days ago" you chuckled, "Oh yeahh, i forgot" he said.

He stood up from his chair, and walked over to you, "Scooch, make some space for me" He said, since you were laying down in the middle of the bed, hands and legs spread out, you whined, but still moving. Peter lays down as you layed your head down on his bicep, his hands making their way to your hair and playing with them.

You sighed, you did not think that you would be in this position right now, in the arms of your dream boy, being in a relationship, you genuin-

"Hey, sunshine?" He asked cutting off the train of thoughts you had in your mind, his eyes looking at you, "Yeah?" You said in a questioning tone, eyebrows furrowed together, looking at him, "I love you" He confessed, his lips moving to make a nervous smile.

You gulped, you wanted to run, you wanted to bury yourself 6 feet underground, you wanted to just leave and start a whole new life, but you knew you couldn't, you had to confront it this time, so you sat up, and looked at him, opening your mouth to say something but no words come out.

Peter felt like he made a mistake saying it, not that his feelings are a mistake, like obviously he has a right to say them but naybe not now, cause right now he felt scared that you didn't feel the same way as him, but then again you guys have been in a relationship for a year now, but what if you were planning on breaking up with him or somet-

"Peter" you said his name, uncertainty lacing your voice, biting the inside of your cheeks, "yeah?" he said, "I- um I love you too" You smiled at him, he felt all the nervousness and worries leave his body the moment you said those 3 words, smiling back at you, he sat up, hands cupping your cheeks, "Can i kiss you?" He asked for permission, god, what did you do to deserve him, you nodded, and so he leaned in, capturing your lips, eyes closing.

You guys pulled away, foreheads resting against each others, maybe you hated love but peter, he was the only exception.

Marvel Fic Rec Masterlist

Bucky Barnes

Steve Rogers

One-Shots

Chances by @soulgazingwithbucky

Clean by @xoxoavenger

only you by @sunvmars

Peter Parker

dulcet by @jamespottersdaisy

hoax by @waitimcomingtoo

SLUT! by @/waitimcomingtoo

Infinitely You by @spider-stark

begin again by @webslingingslasher

Pietro Maximoff

One-Shots/Two-Shots

Maybe Things Could be Different Part 2 by @lifeasitis21

Series

evermore by @memphisnovels

Matt Murdock

mad at god s2 defenders the punisher s1 s3 the punisher s2 by @petertingle-yipyip

Thor Odinson

nothing... yet

Peter Quill

angel unaware

ꨄ︎ pairing: peter parker x silk!reader

ꨄ︎ synopsis: you’ve known peter since you were fifteen, shortly after you were both bitten by the same spider. it was too obvious that you’d end up loving him. as you drift apart during your first year of college, you’re not sure how much longer you can keep dancing in circles with him.

ꨄ︎ genres: best friends to lovers, angst, idiots in love, slowburn, mutual pining, hurt/comfort

ꨄ︎ tags: rated explicit/18+ (smut), alcohol usage, mention of drug usage, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), characters are 19, mild violence, gun violence (there is a school shooting in the beginning but there aren’t too many details)

ꨄ︎ wc: 13.8k

ꨄ︎ notes: omg. happy valentine’s day y’all. i’ve been working on this Big Bertha for literal MONTHS and i’m so happy to finish it and share it with you. thank you for being around even though i haven’t been the most active; this is a gift to you <3

ꨄ︎ listen to the playlist!

The spider bit you first.

It isn’t until you’re fifteen that someone else finds out about it.

In many ways, you should’ve known. The symptoms, the hypervigilance, the strange, gradual transition of filling out your body. You blame puberty first, but this feels more than abnormal. It’s almost as if it’s bursting through your skin. The only other person who seems to mirror your coming of age is Peter Parker, whose twitchy nature exacerbates the longer high school goes on.

You keep your head low because there’s no reason for you to tell anyone about your powers. Not even the boy about whom you’re positive shares the same curse as you.

But then the videos come out. Red and blue lycra flying through buildings, a blurred figure saving cats from trees, webs shooting and swaying as onlookers stare like it’s a circus act. He calls himself Spider-man and you think it’s awfully corny.

Keep reading

"No one can win every battle, but no man should fall without a struggle"-Peter Parker, Spider-Man.

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I love your writing! Is there any chance you could make a Peter Parker x reader one where Peter and y/n do it for the first time? Xx

First time || Peter Parker

Warning: Extreme smut, fingering, riding, kissing, first time with Peter Parker. 18+

Summary: You and Peter do it for the first time as you were both needing sex.

You didn’t know why you had this feeling all day but ever since you saw your boyfriend, Peter, in gym class you have been extremely horny. You and Peter have been dating for 6 months now. And your relationship well hasn’t really been taken to the next step.

You and Peter are both virgins after all. But recently there has been so much sexual attention. Whether you make out with the boy you’re always craving for more. You don’t say anything though not knowing if he would feel the same way.

Today you have been dying though. You really want to loose your virginity to Peter, you really trust him and love him. Before dating you were both best friends so you knew you must be soulmates.

Now you’re sitting on his bed, legs squeezed together trying to release some sort of pressure. You kept looking at him watching him spam the controller as his played. It really turned you on watching his face whenever he died or was loosing his game.

“Peter” You whine finally having enough.

“One second, sweetheart” He said not looking away from his computer.

You gave him five minutes, five minutes and he still didn’t lost attention to you. Then an idea rang in your head, “I’m gonna go home” You sighed acting annoyed, standing up pretending to gather your things.

This made Peter turn around looking at you, he quickly turned off his game standing up. “I-I thought you was gonna stay, no, aunt may ain’t here remember. Please don’t go” He pleaded.

“But you’re too busy playing and you said one second and I waited more longer. All I wanted to do was speak to you” You said.

“I’m sorry, okay i’ll listen what’s up” He smiled taking my bag from my hand.

“It’s kinda serious” You said making his smile disappear as he was now worried and scared.

“O-Okay, yeah go on” He gulped.

“Pete, have y-you ever thought about me in a sexual way?” You tilt your head to him, watching him ho red.

“I-I, erm no” He awkwardly chuckles.

ouch.

You stood there silently realising that maybe your boyfriend doesn’t like you sexually. “Shit, sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t know you knew, it happened 2 weeks ago I didn’t wanna tell you as I was so embarrassed-“ He panicked embarrassed.

“Wait what?” You ask confused.

“You was awake wasn’t you, when I had that dream” He looked at you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to have a wet dream about you whilst you was in the bed. You must’ve been like what the fuck. I mean your boyfriend was basically grinding into your ass that night and came in his pants. Oh my-“ He spoke quickly.

“Wait you had a wet dream about me whilst I stayed over and basically humped me whilst sleeping” You chuckled.

“Yeah…wait you didn’t know”

“No, I didn’t know that happened. So you do think about me like that?” You said hopeful.

“Well yeah….Do you?” He moved a strand of hair from your face.

“Yeah, all the time really. Have you ever like done it to the thought of me?”

“Well..I-I, yeah. Two days ago actually. It was because you wore that super cute skirt to school” He groaned hands finding your waist as your arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“The whole point of me asking the question in the first place was because….I…I’m kinda horny” You whisper the last part, him hearing.

“Oh. I…okay” He started to get flustered.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna do this. But do you wanna maybe have sex? Like right now?” You smirk a little, his head nodding maybe a bit too fast. “Yes, yes. Only if you want to because I want to, I mean I think about it a lot not trying to be-“ You cut him off with a sweet kiss.

“Stop talking, dork. Show me how much you think about me”

And after that Peter linked your lips together. It was slow at first, lips moved in sync as tongues teased. His hands started to traveled down from your cheek to your lower back, fingers grazing your skin. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

The kiss naturally deepened as time passed, elevating you both to the next stage.

"You sure you want this?" He asked against your lips, you nod leaning back to lock your lips but he moved away. " I need to hear you say it, love" He spoke, clearly having a confidence.

"I want this Baby, I mean I did suggest it." You almost whine wanting this to happen. He then crashed your lips together again, you took the hint, hands clumsily fiddling with the bottom of his shirt, wanting it gone.

You broke away, allowing the material to be thrown somewhere in his room. Your lips quickly attack at Peters neck, sucking the soft skin, trying to find his sweet spot. You’ve never done this before but you’ve done lots of research.

“Ughh, y/n" He moaned quietly as you found the spot he enjoyed you at most.

Peter then quickly picked you up by holding the back of your thighs, your legs wrapping around his waist. He pressed you up against his door, attacking your neck making marks all over it.

“Peter-you sure you’ve never done this before" You moan once he found your sweet spot.

‘Never’ He said.

Hesitantly, you let my fingers lace through his locks, massaging his scalp provoking him to groan against your neck.

Still holding you, moving away from the door. He placed you in the middle of the bed, now hovering over you. He smiled down at you, "C-can I erm....Can I take this off?" His hands danced at the bottom of your his sweater.

"Yes" you nervously breathe out as his hands slowly pull up the sweater, revealing your black laced underwear. He threw the hoodie on the floor somewhere.

He turned around to look at your body shyly, however you immediately pulled your arms and hands to cover your chest, due to not having worn a bra.

Once he realised that you was covering your chest he got off you, making you panic. But before you could speak, you saw him pulling his belt off then his jeans. Leaving him now in his boxers.

"You don't need to cover yourself, princess. Your beautiful, okay? Every single part of you." He slowly kissed up from your belly to your hands. "I don’t really know what to do, but i’ll try. If you feel uncomfortable tell me"

His needy eyes trailed on your chest, nipples hard from the cool air. "Fuck so pretty. Better than I've ever imagined" He mumbled. His mouth slowly trailed kisses along your breasts, eventually finding its way to your buds. Sucking and teething the sensitive part.

This now was a new sensation, a type of pleasure you have never felt before and it started to feel amazing. Your hands started to go into his locks again, pulling a few strands as he groans against your breasts. He switched to the other nipple, giving it attention it craved.

"petey" You moaned as his hands explore your curves. His lips then started trailing down your torso, travelling down to your lace panties. "I-I’m gonna try make you feel good, y/n/n." His hands now touching your panties.

“Can I?” He said waiting for you to give him a sign of permission. "Please, Pete"

Slowly pulling your lace panties down your legs, he finally was in contract with your heat. He quickly pulled them off your legs, throwing them with your other clothes.

"So I’ll need to like prep you right. I read up it’s better so it doesn’t hurt when…when I… put that thing in."

“Peter I’m sure you can say dick whilst we’re having sex, please baby I don’t mind what you say. Just don’t be shy” You smile sweetly.

“When I shove my dick inside your pussy” He smirks kinda not expecting his words.

You spread your legs a little to help him get more access to your clint. "Don't worry, I'm gonna make you feel good. Can't wait to be in you" You whimpered at his words.

His fingers finally came into contact with your soaked centre. This contact caused you to moan, feeling his soft touch swipe through your folds gathering your wetness. "Your so wet baby"

"All for you Peter" You were shocked by your own words now. 

"All mine? Tell me what you want me to do with my fingers?" Peter smirked looking up at your flustered face. He wanted to speak dirty to you as he knew you like it.

"Uh I want you to- to, fuck me with your f-fingers." You stuttered, scared that you weren't sexy enough for him.

"Yeah, use my thick fingers to stretch you is it? I'll stretch you better than your own fingers ever could." His digits beginning to tease circles on your sensitive bud.

"Yes! I'd feel so full baby. Please put more pressure on my clit."

"Like this?" He teased, following your orders rubbing harsher circles. Your back arched, toes curled. Only sounds that could leave your lips were small pants and moans. Peter continued the movement, coaxing you towards your climax. Once he knew you were relaxed, he dropped his hand to your entrance. A finger slipping deep into your core causing you to clamp around him. "Relax darling, I promise it will be okay? Tell me if it gets to uncomfortable, okay? I don’t know if i’m doing it right. But i’ll help the pain…"

His lips crashed onto yours, getting your mind to focus on something else. It worked. His finger could finally move, pumping in and out of you in slow, twisting motions. Putting his thumb to your clit, he added another digit, stretching you.

The knot started to build in your stomach. The sore feeling turning into amazing pleasure. You felt like you needed to piss.

"Pete, I think I'm close" You whined against his lips. He pulled his fingers out of you, a whine coming out of your lips at the lost of contact of his fingers.

"Sorry, but I want you to cum when I'm inside you" He told you before dipping his head into your heat, collecting all your juices.

"You ready?" He asked, taking his boxers off then grabbing a condom packet. Pre cum already leaking out from his dick, from it being so hard. “Have them as of May said” He chuckled.

"Yeah I need you" As soon as he ripped the condom packet open he rolled it onto his shaft, holding back a moan.

He was about to hover on top of you again until you spoke. "uh- I was thinking maybe, I could ride you?" Peters eyes nearly popped out of his skull. "Just wanna try it. You need good pleasure too" you smile at him, he moved to sit where you once laid.

You threw your leg over his thigh, straddling him. His cock touching your heat, anticipation growing every second. This was it. You and Peter were both going to loose your virginity.

"You sure you wanna do this?" You asked and he said 'yes'. But then asked, "Are you sure, sweetheart?"

Instead of answering his question you raised your hips so they hovered over his cock as he held it, you placed your hands on his shoulders taking a deep breath, steadying your nerves. "Take your time angel. If you need to stop or feel uncomfortable, please don't be scared to tell me. Are you sure you want this?" His question didn't need any consideration.

"Yes, Baby boy. I want this. I need you."

Letting gravity do the work, you slowly slid down his cock. The stretch felt funny at first, uncomfortable. The slow pace let you adjust to every inch. Peters teeth dug into his lip, drawing blood as he tried to control the pleasure he was experiencing. As soon as you bottomed, he grunted.

Peter saw your face as you tried to adjust, so he crashed his lips onto your trying to help with some of the discomfort. It's not like it hurt it was just a different sensation to feel.

Ready, you began to move your hips up, the stretch intensifying. Fingernails left crescent shapes in his skin. "ugh..Baby girl you feel amazing fuck."

You moan at his words, "Peter- you are so big." You whined loving the feeling of him filling you up. Your words turning him on even more.

His hands glued to your side, helping your body ride his cock. Eyes flickered between your chest, face and pussy. He watched the way his cock disappeared into you with ease, the way your tits bounced, and the way your eyes were squeezed tight. It was a magnificent sight. "So tight. Take me so well darling. Fuck."

Your pace started to slow down so he decided to flip you both over, knowing that your orgasm is about to come. "Fuck me harder Petey" You moaned out, well more like screamed. You don't even know what came over you, you just enjoyed the pleasure.

Peter started to thrust into you, not too hard but more faster. Your eyes were rolling at the back of your head at the pleasure of him filling you up.

"Fuck...i-I'm ugh-I'm not gonna last long" Peter admitted whilst moaning into your neck as he pounded into you.

"Cum, Peter, Please" You begged nearing your own release. His hips started to meet yours as he fucked you with more pace. Screams ripped from your throat as he ruthlessly hit your g-spot with insane accuracy. Every limb in your body becoming weak, Fingers entangled in his locks, pulling at them making him growl.

"Darling, you close?" He looked down seeing you in pleasure as he kept hitting the spot.

"Yes, pretty boy, I'm- Im gonna—FUCK!"  You clenched around him, suffocating his cock as your body convulsed against his body, your climax a thousand times more intense.

This tipped him over the edge as he released into the condom. The feeling of you clutching him proved to be too much. He started to finish off with slow thrusts to steady out your orgasm.

Peter fell straight on top of you, both of you breathing heavily.

Wow. That was fucking amazing.

Your chests were rising up and down quickly. The room smelt of sex. Peter pulled you closer to him, both your bodies next to each other as you nestle your face into his neck, placing a small kiss.

"Darling, we gotta get you clean up" He said breaking the silence. "No, stay" you told him, his hands playfully going to your ass giving it a little slap making you groan in pain.

"Shit are you okay? Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry." He panicked, never meaning to cause his girl any pain whatsoever. "I'm okay, just sore" you admitted, hand soothing his chest. He placed a kiss on your temple before slowly getting you up, making you want to whine.

He then brought both of you into the shower so you could both freshen up. You both helped each other to get washed and helped washing each others hairs. You both were happy and relieved.

“Let’s go to bed” Peter smiled, now he was in a fresh pair of boxers and you wore a pair of his boxers with one of his science puns shirts.

“I love you” You smiled as he wrapped his arm around you, the covers covering your bodies.

“I love you more” He kissed the back of your neck.

“And I’m so happy we did that” You close your eyes.

“Me too. Go sleep now, goodnight”

“Goodnight, Pete”

First ever proper smut….yes? no?…more?

please, call me peter

DATE: JANUARY 6, 2023

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

request: yes yes

words: 3.4k

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

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

gynecologist!peter x female!reader

—

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

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

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

See? It wasn’t impossible.

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

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

A guy? Your gynecologist was a guy?

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

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

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

Oh shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Do you have any pain?”

“No.”

“Are you on birth control?”

“Yes.”

“How long?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do I do then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just maybe not in a hospital.

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” Your response was breathless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe being a doctor does make him arrogant. Sometimes.

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

Please, call me Peter.

—

yesss tell me what you think :)

peter parker x reader

peter parker is in love with his high school best friend, michelle jones, and you are in love with peter’s roommate, harry osborn. when mj and harry start dating, you and peter test your limits in a situation that “benefits” the both of you. how far will the two of you go to satisfy each others’ loneliness?

inspired by the anime kuzu no honkai.

genres: university au, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, fake dating, unrequited love

warnings: explicit content (18+ only), mature themes, drug and alcohol usage, angst

wc: n/a

join the taglist / playlist / main m.list

↳ status: COMING SOON.

i. ykwim?

ii. i hate what this song is about

iii. saying your names

iv. right side of my neck

v. devil’s advocate

vi. (you know i’d leave) any party for you

all rights reserved © silkscream, 2022.

peter parker x reader

peter parker is in love with his high school best friend, michelle jones, and you are in love with peter’s roommate, harry osborn. when mj and harry start dating, you and peter test your limits in a situation that “benefits” the both of you. how far will the two of you go to satisfy each others’ loneliness?

inspired by the anime kuzu no honkai.

genres: university au, friends to lovers, friends with benefits, fake dating, unrequited love

warnings: explicit content (18+ only), mature themes, drug and alcohol usage, angst

wc: n/a

join the taglist / playlist / main m.list

↳ status: ONGOING.

i. ykwim?

ii. i hate what this song is about

iii. saying your names

iv. right side of my neck

v. devil’s advocate

vi. (you know i’d leave) any party for you

all rights reserved © silkscream, 2022.

Playing With Fire (Part One)

Word count: 1.3K 

Summary: Y/N was born with a terrible curse back in the late 1920′s. Taken in and cared for by Howard Stark, Y/N finds her family with two super soldiers. Until she gets frozen by Hydra and unthawed for bad. The avengers need all of the help they can get with her. They need a spider.

PETER PARKER X READER

Part Two  Part Three  Part Four  Part Five  Part Six

The wooden bedframe and flower print curtains slowly caught on fire as the orange flames encased everything in their path. It only took a couple of seconds for the entire house to go up in flames. It only took a couple of hours for the entire house to turn to ash. Her parents were still inside, slowly burning to death. Their screams echoed around the neighbourhood.

Firefighters weren’t able to find the source of the fire, but that was because she was the source of the fie. She was born with the ability to control the elements. In secret, she practiced her powers. She was good at controlling the wind, the water, ice and plants. But fire, that was what really got to her. it was just something she wasn’t able to grasp complete control of.

No, fire really fucked up her life. Friends and family, they had all lost their lives because of her.

At sixteen years old, Y/N had lost almost everything because of fire. It forced her to develop thick skin.

It hurt. It really hurt.

Keep reading

So a while ago I read this multi-part fic thingy, it was a Peter Parker smut, and I was wondering if you guys could help me find it?

(Warning: this is what I remember from it so it’s gonna be inappropriate)

So I don’t remember how it started out exactly, but anyways reader and Peter were alone in his and May’s apartment, and they were doing stuff, and I think it ended with her sucking him off or something (I think maybe they were on the couch) and then May and her parents surprise (I wouldn’t call it a surprise but it was unexpected and spontaneous) them by May coming back with her parents (her mom and dad) and brought pizza. Anyways they might’ve fallen asleep a little after their “activities” and I think maybe his, you know, thing, was still out of his shorts and y/n was on top of him, sleeping but in a very compromising position, and they come in and are like “hey guys guess what I got pizza and y/n’s parents are here!” Or something and they’re caught, and maybe Peter’s shorts were around his ankles or something because he ended up tripping, hitting his head on a table (I think it was a coffee table), and getting knocked out, and her parents are PISSED, especially her dad, and while may is mad she’s not pissed like her dad is, and her parents end up taking her home and taking her phone at some point, so while her dad is out and her mom is in the shower or something, she takes her mom’s laptop to communicate with Peter, and with their flirting and sexy talk whatever, he ends up (idk if it was jokingly or not, probably not) asking for a pic of her ass, because that was some bet or dare they made earlier before May and her parents caught them after doing stuff. Anyways she takes pictures of herself on the laptop and sends them to him, and he’s on his bed looking at them, boner alert 🚨, when her May lets her dad into their apartment so he can talk to Peter and try to sort things out since he acted kinda loco irrational, then Peter is acting weird because he was just looking at (basically) nudes of dude’s daughter, has a boner, then this man comes into his room and it kinda interrogating him, I think maybe he was annoyed because Peter was still sitting in his bed with the blanket covering him like he wasn’t trying to be serious or something but he was just hiding his blunder ⛺️, and he sees that Peter has his phone and is like “seriously? Why do you have your phone after what we caught you two doing?” Like annoyed/ticked that May didn’t take Peter’s phone after everything, then Peter is acting suspicious, like immediately hiding his phone screen when he walked in, and y/n’s dad’s like “give me the phone” and he’s not doing it, and her dad ends up taking it and gets LIVID, and maybe he tried to beat up Peter, probably, and I think May is like “nope, you’re not gonna beat up my nephew” and kicks dude out, but May is PISSED and is like “are you fucking serious Peter? You both get in trouble for getting caught “doing stuff” and you ask her for nudes?” And then she’s like “you’re done”. Anyways y/n’s dad gets home and he’s so angry and he’s like “how did you get this laptop?” And maybe he started accusing his wife of letting her use it, and then y/n says something like “no I took it when she was in the shower”, and they end up not being allowed to see each other (lol of course they don’t listen). And the last part I think is like even though she’s still grounded, her parents let her go to prom, idk if they knew that she went with Peter, and they ended up getting a hotel room (I don’t know if it was already booked or what) and they do, ya know, the nasty, and after all that her dad’s is beating on the hotel door and they’re like “WTF how did he find us?” Because they got the room to be alone and not interrupted since they hadn’t really been able to be together since she’s been grounded, and her dad is like saying “you used MY credit card to get the room, of course I found out about it” and then he ends up seeing a condom (or more 🤷‍♀️) in the trash can and gets PISSED.

Sorry this isn’t the best description, I haven’t read it in a while and I’ve looked for it a lot, but I haven’t found it so I thought “why not ask my peeps of tumblr if they know it” so if you’ve read it and know what it’s called and what platform it’s on (Tumblr or Wattpad) and the author maybe, that would be SOO amazing!

Thanks for reading all of this, love you guys 🙃 💗

Caught In Their Webs (Series Masterlist)

NWH Spoilers below and in this series, read at your own risk!!!(Masterlist will be updated as story progresses, not much yet)

Summary: Your best friend and long term crush Peter Parker rocks up at your apartment with two other Peters Parkers in tow and tells you he has managed to break the damn multiverse. You agree to host the two other Peters, whilst your Peter tries to fix the damn multiverse. What will happen during a full week with three Peters filtering in and out of your apartment.

* = Smut

Prologue

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Never Have I Ever [p.p]

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Summary: When Peter meets you at college and you two bond over your lack of sexual experience, you quickly become the best friend he’s ever had. But while he falls madly in love with you, he doesn’t know if you feel the same. You hold his hand when you’re out together, talk to him about the vibrator you want to buy and bless him with that beautiful look in your eyes that is reserved only for him… yet he’s not sure if you see more than a friend in him. Little does he know, you’re wondering the same about him, hoping for the same outcome.

Warnings: smut (all first time, oral f + m receiving, dry humping (semi-public? but it’s completely uninterrupted and unseen and in a remote location lol), masturbation (f with a sex toy and m with the reader’s underwear), vaginal sex – the second half of this is basically all smut), a sprinkle of jealous Peter, Professor Garfield lol, a little bit of angst ig bc Peter keeps doubting himself and thinks he’s a pervert but he’s just dumb as shit and oblivious, (all Peter’s pov <3), fic starts off with an awkward and embarrassing story lol, alcohol/drunk!Peter, (btw if first year of college sounds a little young to you you can always imagine they just took a break between hs and college), idk how college works in the usa, also I mention Peter's enhanced senses but it's not a Spiderman fic at all lol

Word Count: 23k omg, the longest thing I’ve ever written (if that’s too long for you i’ve put four ‘dividers’ in total so it’s split into 4 more or less equally long parts (the first is like 4k, second is 7k, then 4k again and the last is 8k) but of course you can ignore that and just read all of it in one go, all 23k are in this post, it’s a one shot)

It's finally here! Thank you for all the love I received for the teaser and just talking about this fic already 💘 This has been on my mind for so so long and I’ve been (sporadically and inconsistently) writing it since like September. I’m so glad it’s finally finished, this was one of my favourite wips I‘ve ever worked on, I really loved writing Peter and the reader and their dynamic and experiences and I hope you love reading it just as much 💖

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒐𝒏𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s Peter’s first week of college and so far he barely knows anyone. The guys in the rooms next to Peter’s are cool, but he figures it wouldn’t hurt to know a few more people, so he decides to go to this party he’s been hearing about all week.

The party is exactly how he imagined it; loud music, drinking games, a pretty girl sitting next to him. So pretty that he doesn’t dare look at you for too long because he’s worried you’ll catch him staring and think he’s being weird.

The game you’re all playing started as a simple never have I ever, but somehow people are now telling their funniest sex stories. Peter doesn’t realise it’s part of the game that everyone tells a sex story until it’s your turn and he notices how the last few people all told a story, one after the other, going around the circle you’re all sitting in.

His heart starts thumping harder in his chest. He doesn’t have a sex story to tell. But if he gets up now it will be obvious that he’s avoiding his turn, right? 

Fuck.

Besides, he wants to listen to your story. He just has to hope that his usually clever brain will help him come up with something when it’s his turn.

“Most memorable sex experience…” you hum in thought as you lightly drum the bottle in your hands against your lips. “Oh wait, this one’s funny. The guy I was with asked me if I peed myself when he took off my underwear because he didn‘t know that women get wet when they‘re turned on. I explained it to him but he wouldn’t believe me. 

“He was sweet about it and told me it happens to the best of us — and that he sometimes pees himself too. So at that point, I just saw it as a second chance from the universe to show me what this guy was like and I left.” 

The students around you laugh and comment on the story and as you look over at Peter a few seconds later he realises the other people are doing the same. 

They‘re expecting him to tell a sex story now. His mouth goes dry and his brain is empty. Think. Think. Think. Think of something. Anything. 

But he has nothing.

You speak up again, pointing at the guy next to Peter, “Oh my god, Brandon, you remember that story you told me earlier? You need to tell that one, that was the funniest thing I‘ve ever heard.”

A weight is lifted off of Peter‘s shoulders when the attention simply shifts to the guy next to him.

What felt like overthinking for hours when he couldn‘t come up with anything to say was probably only a short moment, less than five seconds, and not a single person noticed that they skipped over Peter. He lets out a breath of relief as other people tell stories and no one demands anything from Peter. 

He keeps glancing at you, trying to figure out if what you did was deliberate or not. 

The only thing he‘s gotten from you so far is a second of eye contact, your face neutral but your eyes holding something positive. The next time you stand up to refill your drink, Peter follows you into the kitchen.

You smile at him when you see him enter, offering some of the diet coke you‘re pouring into your cup to him. “No thanks,” Peter says, watching you fill the rest of your drink with rum. 

“I don‘t know if you did that on purpose or not but uh.. thanks,” he says, clearing his throat after, annoyed at himself for sounding so nervous. You’re gorgeous, but he doesn’t even know you yet. You’re a stranger, yet he finds himself caring about what you think of him.

You muster him for a few seconds before you realise what he’s talking about.

“Oh. You mean during the.. the sex stories? That was no big deal. You just looked a little uncomfortable so I tried my best to get the attention to shift to someone else,” you smile.

“Thanks, that... that was really kind. Although I was kind of hoping it wasn‘t obvious how nervous I was. I just don‘t have any special or funny sex stories to tell... or any sex stories at all,” he avoids eye contact when he says it but you immediately get what he means. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” You say, taking a step forward to stand closer to him, his cheeks heating up. He nods.

“The story I told? That was completely made up. I‘ve never had sex with anyone either. And I‘m not ashamed of that fact, I mean I‘m so young and there‘s nothing wrong with waiting or honestly I‘ve just never... been in that type of situation with a boy…”

“I get it. You don‘t have to explain yourself. Same boat,” he smiles and nudges your shoulder but regrets it instantly.

Nudging your shoulder? He has never nudged anyone‘s shoulder. Especially not the shoulder of a pretty girl he just met. 

You don‘t take any notice of it though, much to Peter‘s relief, and you continue. 

“Even if I personally don‘t care how old anyone is when they have their first time, I just felt nervous saying it in a room full of frat boys. I know this year has barely started but so far all the frat boys I’ve met live up to their reputation and I didn‘t want them making any stupid comments. 

“If I was my ideal, confident self - or just a little tipsier - I probably would have just said that I don’t have any sex stories to tell but... I don‘t know. I was nervous.”

“I get that. That‘s exactly how I felt too. Only I wasn‘t creative enough to think of a story. My mind just blanked, I must have looked crazy when it was my turn to say something. You were calm though, the story seemed as real as all the others... maybe even more real, I mean what you said sounds very realistic to me considering how little most men know about women’s bodies.” 

“Yeah,” you giggle, “But you didn‘t look nervous either. It‘s just that I knew I might not be the only one too nervous to admit that I don‘t have any experience so I was hyper-aware of it, I guess.”

“Okay, I‘m glad. Thanks again.” The conversation is slowly dying but he doesn’t want it to end yet.

He holds his hand in front of him, “I’m Peter by the way. Biochemistry and computer science.”

His fingers tremble for a second. Who introduces himself like that? God, he’s messing this up before it even started.

But you grin, trying not to laugh and tell him your name and introduce yourself in the same way, “Oceanography and computer science.”

He takes a second to release the breath that he was holding in, “Oceanography? Wow, that sounds really interesting. You‘ll have to tell me more about that.” 

“It is. And I will once college starts. I‘m really excited.” 

“Me too. And computer science? That means we‘ll probably have a few classes together right?”

“Probably. Do you have your schedule yet?”

He takes out his phone and shows you the picture he took of it, and you lean in to look at it so closely that he can smell your lovely perfume.

“I don‘t have it on my phone but I recognise that professor’s name,” you point at a name on the screen, “I‘m in that class too, I heard professor Garfield is really good. I have two classes with him.”

And that‘s how you two end up talking all night. Peter walks you home and you realise your dorm rooms are merely minutes away from each other and you make a vow to meet each other again. He really hopes you don’t forget about him, or that you weren’t just being nice.

Peter falls asleep with a smile on his face and you on his mind. 

*

The next day, he realises with disappointment that you didn’t exchange numbers. He would like to text you and meet you in front of the lecture hall so it would be less nerve-wracking to go to his first-ever college lecture.

It would help to have someone he already knows with him and in case you were nervous he’d love to be there to calm you down too; make you feel less alone–you can do this together.

He knows one of his first classes on Tuesday is one that he shares with you. But he hopes he can see you on Monday to be each other’s support, or at least to see you for five minutes between classes.

He looks for you all day, but doesn’t see you again.

He’s giddy all night, knowing he’s definitely going to see you tomorrow. His plan is to get up extra early and casually and totally coincidentally lounge around in the hallway that your room is in, and then you can go to class together.

But one missed alarm later he‘s running through the building, trying to find the lecture hall that was shown to him during freshers week, but he didn’t quite manage to remember each one of the hundreds of rooms.

Time is running out and he has one minute until the lecture starts. He runs around the next corner and finally finds the hall he’s supposed to be in.

There are hundreds of students though, and he seems to be one of the last; he can’t even see if there are any seats left.

While his eyes scan the rows for an empty seat–but more importantly for you–he sees some movement directed at him. A wave.

His eyes travel down the arm that's waving at him and soon he’s making eye contact with you. He’s only met you once but he can’t stop a huge smile from taking over his entire face.

Peter blushes while he’s walking up the steps, on his way to you, but once he’s close he can see your bright smile and he’s immediately reminded of why he likes you so much.

“Hi,” Peter plops down next to you on the first seat of the row. You lean in and Peter’s breath gets caught in his throat when he realises you’re hugging him–just a friendly side hug, but it’s a hug nevertheless.

He takes his water out of his bag, trying to calm himself down by focussing on the cool drink running down his throat. It does clear his mind, the water, but he’s more and more comfortable with every second that he sits next to you. Your aura is so kind and calming, and he finds his shoulders losing the tension as you start talking to him.

“I thought you weren’t going to make it or something. We forgot to exchange numbers so I found your Instagram and was gonna message you there. But you‘re private so I couldn‘t.”

Ever since you said goodbye the night after the party, Peter has been worrying that that was all. That it was just an in-the-moment type of thing and you wouldn’t think it was anything special – or worse, you’d forget about him. But now you’re here, keeping a spot for him, telling him you’ve been thinking about him and wanted to message him. The warmth in his chest spreads when you smile at him.

And sure, just because you remember him doesn’t mean you’re best friends, but it confirms that Peter isn’t the only one who thought you had a connection that was worth remembering.

Peter most definitely also stalked your Instagram. It’s public but he didn’t want you thinking he was weird for spam-liking all your pictures–which he definitely wanted to do but he stopped himself in time. 

He put a timer on Instagram for the app to remind him when it’s been twenty minutes of looking at your pictures. Not that there were enough to be scrolling for twenty minutes straight – he simply enjoyed looking at you.

He takes his phone out and accepts the follow request you sent him and follows you back.

“Put your number in,” you place your phone in front of him, opened on a new contact card that Peter fills out with his number and name. You look at it and add a <3 behind his name and Peter prays he’s not blushing as hard as it feels.

You text him You up? and if his cheeks weren’t red before then they definitely are now. He can tell you’re just teasing but the fact that you’re already comfortable enough to joke around with him makes him grin.

He feels like he can be himself with you and you’re doing the same. You’re not holding back with showing Peter that you like him and it makes him feel good about himself. 

But his smile fades when he hears your next words

“The professor is so hot, I have no idea how I‘ll concentrate. I talked to him before I sat down and he has a really nice voice too. And that accent… But wait till he turns around and you see his face – or you could just stare at his ass.” 

Peter doesn’t know why it feels like someone stabbed him right in the heart. And when he sees you further staring at the man, it’s like that knife is being pulled out of his chest and Peter bleeds out. 

“I-it’s not even that big,” Peter tries.

You look at him and now he feels stupid for having said that. 

“Butts don‘t have to be big to be hot. Little booties matter. And they’re really cute sometimes.”

“W-well yes, of course, but.. he‘s really not that hot,” Peter says, and then Professor Garfield turns around, “...okay he is that hot.”

“Told you,” you sing, a smile on your face, and he can’t be mad at you when you’re looking at him like that. He couldn’t be mad at you no matter what you did. While Professor Garfield, or Andrew–as he tells you all to call him–starts the lecture, Peter tries to figure out what’s got him so mad.

Yes, of course you’re pretty. You’re gorgeous. But that doesn’t mean that he has to have a crush on you immediately. Just because you’re a girl and he’s a guy doesn’t mean that this has to go beyond a friendship. Men and women can be just friends. He can’t just fall in love with the first pretty woman who’s nice to him.

Okay, maybe he already has a crush on you. So what? Who can blame him?

But Peter doesn’t want to rush anything with you. He’ll give you the time to figure out what you feel for him, and he’ll just follow your lead. He may think you already like him as much as he likes you, but it’s still only the second time you’re ever seeing each other. 

That and he just doesn’t want to overthink it all and end up losing the first person at college who genuinely feels like someone he could be friends with.

He tries to ignore how you giggle at every joke the professor makes and tries to focus on the warmth of you next to him instead. Not too much though, he’s already let your teasing get to his head and maybe even to a body part further down.

Even if it means he won’t have to witness you laughing at Professor Garfield’s jokes anymore, Peter is sad when the lecture is over. It’s the only lecture he has today and therefore also the only one he has with you today.

As you pack your things and people swarm out of the lecture hall, you and Peter stay back, taking it slow.

“What’s your next class?” You ask, looking him right in the eyes–like any normal person–but he’ll really have to get used to that. He can’t lose his mind every time you just look at him. But he's so attracted to you.

“I, um, I no. I mean, I don’t have any other classes today.”

You smile unexpectedly, “Cool, me neither. You wanna do something? We could get lunch together.”

You say it with such ease, showing your interest in him like you don’t know how it’s making Peter feel warm and bubbly inside.

Even if Peter still gets nervous around you, simply because he wants to impress you and doesn’t want to fuck this up, he realises quickly that he has no reason to be. 

Your friendship blooms effortlessly and quickly. 

A week later you’re texting like you’ve been best friends for years and he finds himself too happy around you to worry about what he’s saying or how he’s acting. You like him the way he is and he can feel it deeply and confidently. 

Yes, he still stutters a lot around you - but he does that around most people, to be fair - and once you part ways for the day he overanalyses every little thing you’ve said to him, overthinks every little touch of yours for some form of affection that is more than platonic.

And it’s hard, figuring out whether you like him as more than a friend.

But this friendship is so new and so exciting that Peter thinks it makes him just as happy as an average relationship in the honeymoon phase would. So even if he does crave more intimacy with you, it’s hard to complain when he has a friend like you.

*

You show up at Peter’s door at midnight on a Friday. His sleep schedule has been surprisingly healthy for a college freshman so if anyone else disturbed him when he was already in pyjamas, he’d be annoyed.

But with you, he’s ecstatic. He’s awake immediately, grinning from ear to ear at your surprise visit. You never left his mind but he thought he’d have to wait until tomorrow to see you again.

Peter is more than aware of the contrast between your done up state and him in his ratty old pyjamas. You’ve seen him in pyjamas before and he knows better than to think you’d judge him, but he can’t help but to want to at least try and match you when you’re looking as gorgeous as you are.

“Oh sorry, I thought you’d still be up,” is the first thing you say, ready to leave if you’re bothering him in any way.

“No, no, I am, don’t worry. What’s up?” Peter asks, trying to look cool as he leans against his door frame. He ignores how it hurts like hell where his elbow meets a sharp corner.

“Well… I was gonna ask if you wanna go watch a movie with me,” you give him a charming smile not knowing he’d say yes no matter what you asked of him.

“Now?”

“Uh, yes. Now. But it’s fine if not, genuinely I won’t be mad. I can see that you had other plans,” you smile at his pyjamas.

“No. Don’t worry, I’d love to go. Do you have tickets or…?” Jealousy bubbles up inside Peter when he realises you might have been planning to go with someone else. With some other guy. Maybe he bailed on you and Peter is the second option (which he would still be grateful for, but he hates the thought of you with another guy).

“No, but I checked online and they have plenty of tickets left. It’s the last day they’re playing this film. The one I told you about, the horror one.”

“Oh God.” He’s trying to pretend that you still need to convince him when really Peter just needs a second to realise he was just overthinking again. He is your first choice. Not another guy.

“Pleeeease, Peter,” you grab his arm and pout. 

Peter has been convinced since the moment you showed up at his door.

“Give me a second,” he smiles and you grin back, “Really? You’re the best,” you kiss his cheek enthusiastically and he goes back into his room fast enough to hide his blush.

He picks out an outfit, brushes his teeth and puts on deodorant just in case.

You take him to the cinema with your hand in his. Peter knows it’s not a romantic gesture, you’re just treating him like you’d treat a female friend, but his brain doesn’t know the difference. He’s just happy to be touching you.

When you buy the tickets the guy at the movie theatre shows you the available seats on his screen. He points to one of those love seats where two seats are joined together so you can cuddle.

You nod and when the guy gives Peter a congratulatory smile, Peter’s cheeks heat up. The guy probably thinks you and Peter are a couple. It’s not just good for Peter’s ego and the fake scenarios with you that he’ll imagine before bed, but it’s also better for the guy. Peter saw the way he was eyeing you, and Peter doesn’t know what he would have done if the guy had asked for your number.

“We can cuddle,” you grin as you sit down and pat the seat next to you. You’re almost alone in the theatre, you could sit anywhere you want but you want to be close to him.

While you wait for the trailers to start you take Snapchat videos with Peter, asking him if you can send them to your friends at home. His heart swells when you say that you’ve told them about him.

He takes pictures of you looking all pretty and perfect and he wonders if it would be too much to set it as his phone wallpaper. Your head is on his shoulder as you scroll through the pictures that he just took of you and your perfume is hypnotising.

How is every little thing about you so captivating? Peter has never met anyone like you.

He’s fucking scared during the movie, but with his eyes mostly closed he manages to be the guy you can hold on to during the creepy scenes. Your fingers around his bicep squeeze every time there is a jumpscare and at some point he has to force himself to watch the film after all if he doesn’t want to get hard from your touch. He knows it’s pathetic, but he can’t help it.

You look beautiful in the light of the stars as you two walk home, your hand still around his arm, gushing about the film and thanking him for watching it with you despite the spontaneous change of his plans.

You spend some time in the common area by your dorms. It’s late and everyone else seems to be at some party elsewhere or sleeping. You cling on to Peter, still jumpy from the horror film and he nearly asks you if you want to sleep in his bed.

He nearly says it about five times, but he can’t quite get the words out. He doesn’t want to give you the wrong impression, even if you may be about to ask the same thing.

Peter sits there nervously, gulping as he’s about to ask. He really will say it this time. But before he opens his mouth he hears your deep breaths and notices how your body has gone slack against his side.

He kisses the top of your head in content and soon, sleep finds Peter too. He doesn’t have to dream about being close to you because it’s already his reality.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒘𝒐 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ･:*:･｡

It’s a few weeks into the semester and it’s become a routine for you two to study together. Whether you’re helping each other with the classes you share, or silently working on other things and enjoying each other’s company, your study sessions have even managed to make studying a rather fun part of college. 

Especially when you’re both sitting on Peter’s bed, and your knees or legs or arms are always touching.

You’re not focussed today, scrolling around on your phone instead of studying. You throw your phone to the bed at some point and you hug your legs to your chest in thought.

“You think Andrew will let me suck his dick? For a better score?”

Peter’s heart stops beating for a second. 

You haven’t kissed, you haven’t said anything that should have led Peter to think that this is more than friendship, but it seemed like there could be something in the future. Apparently, you’re not even considering it.

“Who’s Andrew?” He asks, mouth dry and voice weak.

“Professor Garfield.”

“Oh. Well, I-I think that‘s illegal.”

“Is it though?” You tilt your head and give him a deliberately incredulous look.

“Yes.”

“Not if no one finds out. It’s don’t break the rules or don‘t get caught, Peter.”

He’s distracted by you saying his name for a moment. There’s nothing he loves hearing more.

But he has to stop you from doing… that. He can’t entirely tell how serious you are, but he has to make sure to convince you that it’s a bad idea.

“No offence, but what makes you believe you’ll be good enough for him to give you a better score? If you’ve never… you know, done anything like it.” He remembers your conversation from the first time you met, and if you haven’t given anyone a blowjob since then, he knows it would be your first time. Your first time can’t be with a professor, even if Peter disregards the fact that he wants to be the only guy you have sex with, it really is a bad idea.

“I’m a young and pretty student and he’s a kinda old guy. He’s like 40. So I’m sure that I’ll be enough for him.”

Peter doesn’t say anything for a moment, thrown off by your casual tone.

“Don’t you think so?” you press, teasing in your voice.

“No- of course you’re pretty. You’re beautiful,” he smiles, pressing his lips together. 

“Aww,” you sit up and press a kiss to his cheek, “So are you, Pete.” You hold on to his shoulder as you lower yourself into his lap, your butt right next to his thighs and your upper body resting on his legs, and his breath hitches. 

“Well if you think I need practice, then.. I could practise on you first.”

“Practise w-what on me?” He asks, feeling your hands on his abs.

“Going down on a guy,” you say, looking up at him. Now the feeling in Peter’s belly changes from raging jealousy into something else of equal passion. He’s thought about you doing that before, (and pushed the thought out of his mind as quickly as it appeared) but hearing you suggest it makes a new flame of desire light up in him. 

The first conversation you ever had was about sex. But anytime you mention anything sexual, Peter doesn’t know how to act.

“I- I mean. I’m not- I feel like, maybe that’s not—”

“Don’t worry, I’m joking. I won’t actually suck that guy’s dick. I just don’t wanna do this stuff right now,” you sigh, sitting up and closing your textbook.

“How about we do something to distract you for the night, and then tomorrow I’ll help you with the next assignment,” he suggests, relief still flooding through his body, happy that you don’t actually want to suck your professor’s dick.

“You’d do that?” 

“Of course. I’ll always help you when I can but I especially owe you after you did my homework last week when I fell asleep.”

You sit up, “I told you it was no big deal. It was just multiple choice and all I did was copy my answers.”

“Yeah but if I hadn’t woken up then I would have missed the deadline and failed.”

“I know you’d do the same for me. And besides, you looked so peaceful sleeping. I couldn’t wake you up to do some boring computational linguistics quiz at eleven pm.”

Peter smiles at the memory of last week. When he’s with you, he doesn’t want to sleep, he wants to spend time with you. But he was tired and you were studying something Peter couldn’t help you with anyway, and he’s so comfortable around you that he just drifted off to sleep because he trusts you – he wouldn’t be okay with being unconscious next to just anyone.

“Well, it was still a very kind thing to do.”

Not sure what you’re doing yet, you go to your dorm room so you can change out of your sweats and into something prettier–even though Peter thinks you could wear sweatpants 24/7, and you’d still outshine everyone. He nearly stays outside but with a confused look you ask him what he’s doing outside and he reluctantly comes in.

Picking out an outfit, you pull off your shirt with no warning and even if he can only see your back an “Oh my God” leaves Peter’s mouth immediately, followed by a quiet, “Sorry,” as he turns around.

“Don’t worry. I’m just changing. It’s just my body, you can look.”

Despite your nonchalant words, Peter can hear your heart beating loudly and frantically in your chest. He tries not to let it get to him, it doesn’t have to mean that you like him. Maybe you’re just realising that you don’t want a boy to see you half-naked after all but you don’t want to say it now after confidently assuring him it was okay. 

Peter sits down on your bed, turned away from you even though it takes all the willpower he can muster.

A few moments later you jump onto the bed next to him, “So, what are we doing tonight?”

“Do?” He asks, still dazed from seeing your naked back, “Oh do, yeah. Uh yes, we can do something.” 

You giggle, looking at him expectantly. That’s when Peter remembers he was the one who suggested that you go out tonight.

“Oh-well yeah, I was thinking we could take a walk along the river, I heard they have these carnival booths up every Friday night.”

Going out in the evenings has become your and Peter’s thing. Sure, many people–especially college students–go out in the evening. But with you, it feels different. It feels special.

Illuminated by the streetlights and the LED glow from the booths, you and Peter play a few rounds of ring toss and throwing darts at balloons. You both swear it’s rigged because neither of you win anything.

You eat popcorn while Peter gets cotton candy and once again you hold Peter’s hand throughout most of your trip. It’s become a habit of yours, apparently meaningless as a romantic gesture, but platonically it means everything to Peter. You like him enough to constantly initiate physical touch; plus, he’s never seen you hold hands with any of your other friends.

Still, Peter is forever wishing for more. Sometimes he looks at you and wonders how he’s managed not to kiss you yet. But his fear grows with every day; the closer you get the harder it will be to confess his feelings because the risk of ruining something beautiful keeps getting bigger. 

He’s never been this attracted to anyone but he also thinks he’s never had a friendship as good as yours. He simply can’t risk something good, something beautiful, something that makes him as happy as he’s ever been. Your friendship is strong but he’s scared you wouldn’t be able to come back from Peter confessing his feelings for you and you not feeling the same.

It could weird you out, you could take pity on Peter and see him in a different light, or worst of all, you could think he’s been taking advantage of you. He’s never touched you anywhere that would be reserved only for a lover but you two are quite close. You’ve cuddled a few times, or just a few hours ago you were changing in front of him – he doesn’t want you thinking he intentionally got any sexual gratification out of it and for you to view him differently.

He already feels bad enough when nothing but the image of you clouds his thoughts whenever he jerks off. He can’t help it anymore. He used to be able to think of something else or simply watch porn but now that he’s with you so often and you’re so perfect, you’re like an intrusive thought; whenever he’s naked, there’s nothing on his mind but you, just like when a song is stuck in your head – there’s no easy way of getting rid of it.

Peter has never been one to feel shame after masturbating. But if you only liked him as a friend and ever found out what he thinks about when he’s fucking his fist late at night, he doesn’t even want to know what your opinion of him would change into. But the mental image of you alone makes Peter cum so hard, over and over, that he can’t stop, even if guilt plagues him right after as he cleans up the mess he’s made.

He looks down at your intertwined hands while you’re walking home across campus. He wonders what you’d do if you knew that the hand you’re holding right now jerks Peter off every night without fail, thinking precisely of how your hand could replace Peter’s.

On your way home, you walk past a frat house, the vibration of the music reaching Peter’s chest even from the outside.

“Shit, Chloe told me about this party. I forgot I said I’d be there.”

“Who’s that?”

“She’s one of my friends from an Oceanography class. Do you mind if we go in? Just for half an hour.”

It’ll definitely distract Peter from thinking about you in a way that he’s not sure you’d be comfortable with.

You’re dragged away by some of your girlfriends as soon as you enter. They all say something about Peter but you quickly shrug off what they’re saying about you two always being together. He can’t tell if it’s a genuine no or just that feeling of embarrassment that you get when your friends tease you about your crush.

So your friends see it too? The indescribable chemistry between you two? Even with his enhanced hearing, he can’t hear the rest of your conversation because some of his own friends are urging him to go play beer pong with them.

Peter sees you every twenty minutes or so and you wave or smile at him and check up on him every time you walk past. Spending time with your other friends is good for both of you, but it’s also good to know that he’s still on your mind, just like you’re on his.

“Help me find the bathroom,” you tell Peter the next time you see him. He’s getting a little bored at this party so he assumes you also want to escape.

You walk into the bathroom together and Peter doesn’t realise that you actually just need to pee until he sees you contemplating on pulling your underwear down or not, “Can you wait outside?”

“Of course.”

Peter has no interest in being in the bathroom with you while you pee, but the fact that you nearly let him stay in there with you shows him once again how comfortable you are around him. He’s smiling like an idiot, standing by the wall opposite the bathroom until he hears your “You can come in.”

After you’ve washed your hands you sit on the edge of the bathtub and pat the space next to you for Peter to join you and you chat about whatever comes to your mind. So you did want a break from the party too, and Peter is glad to provide that.

“What song is that?” Peter asks. The music is loud enough for you to clearly hear it even upstairs in the bathroom.

“I don’t know, I’ll shazam it. You’re right, it sounds good.”

When you unlock your phone the screen is filled with the picture of a vibrator. You ignore it and go to Shazam the song, but Peter can’t let you off like that.

You always get to tease him so he smirks when he can finally get you back, “Wait wait wait,” he takes your phone from you, lifting it high in case you want to take it from him.

“What is this?” He asks, smiling, teasing you lovingly and in good fun but you look at him as if he’s talking about the most boring thing ever, not embarrassed in the slightest, but once more, that could be a good sign; another sign of your close relationship.

“Oh, it’s this vibrator. But it’s way too expensive for me.”

Peter licks his lips, trying not to freak out. He doesn’t know why he thought talking to you about a vibrator would be a good idea. But he tries to appear as calm as you, “Why is it expensive? What’s so special about it?”

“Well, it basically sucks your clit. But I don’t want to spend over 100 dollars on something like that when I can just go out and find a guy to suck my clit within like five minutes. It’s all those guys on campus think about, I swear. I’m glad you’re not like that, Pete” you smile at him and put your head on his shoulder, completely catching him off guard with your words.

He won’t be able to jerk off without thinking about you for days now; meaning he won’t be able to jerk off for days. Do you mean you’d hate knowing that Peter thinks about you sexually or do you just mean that there’s no pressure with Peter? And that any other male friend would have asked for sex by now?

Peter knows he’s not a perv, but he doesn’t know if you’d say the same if you knew you were the protagonist of his spank bank. 

“Wait, actually, a friend told me they’re way cheaper if you buy them in-store and they’ll have more to choose from... will you go with me?” You ask him with a big fake pout.

“To a.. a sex shop?”

“I don’t want to go alone. And you’re my best friend.”

He can’t say no to you after you call him that, even if having a constant reminder of what you use to masturbate is going to kill him.

“O-okay. But why can’t you just go with your friend?”

“I’m not as comfortable around her as I am around you. Unless you really don’t want to.”

“No no I’ll go,” he nods and you grin.

“I’m sure they’ll have something for you too,” you say with raised eyebrows. And even though his hand and the thoughts about you make him cum hard and fast enough that he doesn’t feel like he needs a sex toy, your words help him feel a little less guilty. You telling him to go buy a sex toy suggests that you’re not grossed out when thinking of him masturbating, so maybe you’d understand that he’s got to do what he’s got to do sometimes, and you actually wouldn’t completely hate him if you found out what goes on in Peter’s mind when he jerks off.

“But we’re not going before we finish our assignment.”

“Deal,” you shake his hand with a laugh and join your friends downstairs to play the last few rounds of drinking games before you go home.

You’re good, but the other team is better. 

You didn’t really want to drink tonight and are only playing for fun but Peter likes following the rules so someone has to have the drinks. You assure him he doesn’t have to but Peter downs all the drinks for you and the ones for himself, relying on his enhanced abilities to drink them like water. He has one drink and then five more and when you two leave the party he realises he’s drunk.

You insist on taking him to your room to make sure he’s okay but Peter is a funny drunk so he doesn’t feel too bad. If he gets to sleep in your bed he could never feel bad, and knowing you you would never offer if you weren’t okay with it.

“I like when you take care of me,” Peter smiles at you when you tuck him into bed and he takes your hand in his, “And I like when we hold hands.”

“I like it too,” you kiss his forehead and Peter practically swoons. You were holding his hand the whole way back home from the party, like one of those people keeping a toddler on a leash and he’ll probably be embarrassed tomorrow morning but right now he’s just grateful for the constant affection.

You seem no bit annoyed that you have to deal with a drunk Peter, you’re just spending time with your best friend (he hasn’t stopped thinking about you calling him that) who happens to be drunk.

“Will you need a bucket?” You ask as you pull down your skirt and leave on your cropped shirt.

“A what?” He asks, heart beating harder as he stares at your half-naked form.

“Do you think you’ll throw up?” You ask.

“No, I’ll be fine.”

When you walk over to the bed Peter sees everything in slow motion. You stand next to the bed for a few seconds, tapping on your phone, and Peter admires your beautiful body while he can.

“You know how much I love your legs? They look so good,” he says, and he can’t tell if he’s embarrassingly drunk right now or not. He just knows that your legs are perfect. You’re perfect. And that’s something his sober self would wholeheartedly agree with.

You smile and turn off the lights, leaving the window open so Peter can get some fresh air but it also leaves enough light for Peter to admire your legs some more.

“Scoot over,” you tell him and get in bed with him.

“No, you don’t understand how incredible your legs are.” He gets one last glance at them before you pull the blanket over your body.

“Thank you, Peter,” you smile, and he sees by the crinkles next to your eyes that it’s genuine and maybe you don’t hate him looking at your body as much as he’s been worrying you would.

You talk a little more but minutes later the conversation consists more of yawning than talking and Peter sobers up when he realises he will be sleeping next to you. It’s his first time sleeping in a woman’s bed, and he’s glad it’s yours.

He’s taken naps next to you and there was that one time you slept next to each other on the sofa, but this is different. You’re alone in your room, right next to each other, in one bed, sharing one blanket. He can feel the warmth of your half-naked body and before he knows it your familiar presence calms him down enough to fall asleep quickly.

*

When Peter wakes up next to you the following morning, it takes a few moments for it to all come back to him.

He knows there’s no way you slept with each other, Peter was kinda drunk, neither of you have even confessed any feelings and you wouldn’t have a one night stand the first time you have sex. 

But when he gently lifts the blanket, making sure he doesn’t wake you up, he’s met with the sight of your lovely belly and heavenly thighs, and Peter thinks from the outside it could look like you had sex. 

Not that anyone is going to see, but two hormonal college students, both half-naked, waking up next to each other.. It screams something obvious and that thing is not that you two are merely friends.

The thought of it alone makes Peter flustered and he shifts uncomfortably. His eyes widen when he realises that his morning wood is pushed right against your ass. He pulls his hips back as quickly as he can, waking you up in the process.

You’re facing away from him, and the first thing you notice is your and Peter’s interlaced hands. His cheeks warm up as he notices them too. His arm is resting above your head on the pillow, fingers next to your face where they’re loosely intertwined with yours.

He doesn’t remember waking up in the night, so you must have somehow ended up holding hands in your sleep, both finding your way to the other even while unconscious.

You squeeze his hand and twist your body to look at Peter’s face. “Hi,” you mumble, smiling sleepily.

“Hi,” Peter says, opening his mouth minimally just in case he has bad morning breath.

Your eyes flit across his face with a look he can’t decipher. “Goodnight,” you say a few seconds later and you lie back down in your tired daze, pushing against Peter and pulling his arm over your waist.

“Wait,” you turn around again, “Are you okay? Got a hangover or anything?”

“I’m good, thanks. Go back to sleep,” he smiles, partially because he knows you still need rest but also because he wants you to go back to sleep so he can take care of himself. It’s becoming painful how hard he is.

“Okay. But stay, you’re warm.”

He most definitely is warm, he knows he’s blushing like crazy.

You pull the blanket further up your body and scoot back against Peter, and the way your ass pushes against his crotch nearly makes him moan. He doesn't know how you're not noticing what's going on.

He scoots his hips back as far as he can and waits a few minutes until you’ve drifted off to sleep again. He carefully removes himself from you and goes to your bathroom. You have a bathtub, big enough for both of you, he thinks, with a showerhead on the wall.

Before he can even bring himself to care about the temperature, Peter turns on the water and pulls his clothes off in a hurry, wrapping a hand around himself before he’s even really in the shower.

He leans a hand against the wall, resting his head against it as his other hand speeds up, jerking himself off while he thinks about you in the other room. You, so pretty, so caring, so sexy in just your underwear and a short shirt. You, not knowing that Peter is about to cum in your shower, so close to you, thinking about you.

The water is only barely louder than the sound his hand makes against his cock, and he bites his lip to stop any moans from coming out.

Peter cums when he hears the squeaking of your bed; you’re getting up, you could walk in any second. While he cums, Peter’s mind wanders to you on your knees, his dick sliding in and out of your mouth as you look up at him with your gorgeous eyes.

He washes his cum off the bathroom tiles on the wall and tries to wash the guilty feeling off himself.

Suddenly the door opens slightly, “Hey can I come in? I won’t look, I just wanna brush my teeth.”

Peter makes sure to slide the shower door to the side so it’s covering him and he tells you to come in.

He peeks out of the shower and you smile at him through the mirror. He catches your eyes drifting lower but you can barely even make out the outline of Peter’s body through the frosted glass. 

Peter casts his own glance at you and how you’re still not wearing anything but panties and that short shirt. You stretch your arms, still trying to shake the tired feeling, and your shirt lifts so that Peter can already see the flesh of your tits. But you stop stretching just before your top lifts over your nipples and he quickly turns to look at the wall in the shower instead.

He quickly washes himself using your shower gel, maybe he’ll smell just like you now.

You hand Peter a towel just at the right moment and he wraps it around himself before stepping out of the shower.

“Wait, leave it on,” you tell him.

In his still horny brain a scenario plays out where you said that a few moments earlier and joined Peter in the shower.

This time you don’t tell him if it’s okay for him to look while you’re changing so he diverts his gaze before you slip out of your clothes.

You squeal when you get in the shower, “Peter, why is it so cold? What’s wrong with you?” 

He must not have realised how cold it was, but once he got into the shower he only cared about coming, and he blocked everything else out. By the time he was washing his body, he must have become used to the temperature already and didn’t notice.

Peter brushes his teeth with his second toothbrush that he’s got in your bathroom and quickly goes into your bedroom so he won’t be in the same room as you while you’re naked and he’s only got a towel wrapped around him.

You come out dressed in the clothes you took into the bathroom with you.

“Sorry that I used your shower,” Peter says, sitting on your bed with nothing but your towel.

“You’re welcome here whenever and welcome to use whatever, you know that. But showering that cold should be a crime,” you smile at him, “Should I get you some clothes?”

You go to Peter’s room to get clothes for him and he changes into them in your bathroom.

“I know it’s the weekend but can we get that assignment done today? I wanna go buy my vibrator soon,” you pout.

Peter forgot all about that. How is he supposed to study with you if he knows you’ll go out together to buy a sex toy after?

But somehow he manages. Well, you realise you can do it mostly by yourself once you properly start and Peter is only there for moral support (even though he’s the one who needs moral support; he doesn’t know how much longer he can pretend that he doesn’t have feelings for you, pretend that he didn’t just jerk off while thinking of you and pretend that it–by far–wasn’t the first time.)

“Hey, are you okay?” You ask Peter as you’re both on your way to buy your stupid vibrator that Peter would love to replace.

He doesn’t know what you’re talking about but your worried look tells him he looks exactly as nervous from the outside as he feels. He’s never been to a sex shop. Are they going to ID you? Are you going to meet someone you know? Is it going to be all dingy?

Normally, you’re like an anchor to Peter, your presence can make him feel comfortable in situations that would usually make him panic. But in this situation, you’re making him even antsier. Not in a way that he would describe as anxious but more like a, he’s scared he’ll get a boner any second. That’s always a risk when he’s with you but that risk quadruples when you’re going to a sex shop to buy a vibrator for yourself.

You stop Peter in his tracks and stand in front of him to wipe his sweaty forehead with your sleeve, his heart beating even faster now. “You know you don’t have to come in if it makes you that nervous. But it’s just a shop.”

“What? Yeah I’m fine, pff, like so fine. I’m just hot,” Peter says, watching your eyes go to the thick winter coat Peter is wearing. You’re wearing one too. Even in his jacket, Peter could do with a bit more warmth.

“Here,” you unzip his jacket, and even if it’s only to assist Peter with his stupid lie, you’re still undressing him. You’re not helping the boner risk decrease at all.

The shop is classy and clean and the employees leave you alone (unlike when you dragged Peter to Lush that one time and he was forced to try out bath bombs and oil that he didn’t know the purpose of).

Now he can tell you’re flustered too, just a little bit. Holding on to Peter’s arm the whole time, you find what you need, pay, and put your gloves on top of the packaged vibrator just in case anyone decides to look in your bag.

Even though it’s a Saturday afternoon, the shops aren’t busy so you go to look for some new clothes. Peter thinks you could wear a potato sack and you’d still look pretty, so he’s not the best judge when you come out of the dressing rooms to ask for his opinion on whatever clothes you’re trying on.

“This is so ugly, oh my god,” he hears you from inside the dressing room, laughing.

You pop your head out behind the curtain to make sure no one sees you as you show Peter a top that, yes–even on you, looks ugly. You still look gorgeous, that’s for sure, but even your perfect face and body can’t save the Shrek-coloured thing that is supposed to be a t-shirt.

“You know, you’re the only one who’s allowed to see me in something as ugly as this,” you say absentmindedly as you go back to try on something else and Peter’s heart beats faster at your words.

It might sound ridiculous to an outsider, but to Peter these little things mean the world.

He might not be able to tell if what you feel for him is platonic or more, but he knows you feel something for him. You feel a lot for him. He feels it every time you so much as look at him. 

With you, Peter feels loved.

The love you give him feels like it’s supposed to be for a lover, supposed to be for that one special person. And the lines between friendship and more are so blurry in your relationship that he can’t tell how much is spilling onto the romantic side already.

Peter contemplates paying for your new jeans but in the end, he’s too awkward (and too broke) in front of the cashier to interrupt when you get out your money. Besides things like cinema tickets, drinks and food, Peter has never paid for anything that you bought and it would feel very boyfriend-y.

You get food on your way home and by the time you’re in Peter’s room, it’s dark outside already. Peter was surprised that you even came to his room and when he keeps noticing you looking at the bag with your new toy in it, his assumption that you’d rather be doing something else now is confirmed.

You’ve been so casual when you talk about things like vibrators and getting off, but Peter has never had the courage to properly contribute anything to the conversation. But he decides to put on his big boy pants and before he can chicken out he nods towards his door and says, “Go on, try out your vibrator. I know you’re dying to.”

You give him a charming and apologetic smile, snatching your bag, ready to go. “I’d love to spend time with you, you know that but–”

“I know. But we have enough time for that tomorrow. Just don’t break your–” Don’t break what? Don’t break your pussy? Your clit? He’s never said any of those words out loud.

“I won’t,” you help him out and climb on the bed again to kiss his cheek, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Pancakes as always?”

“Pancakes as always,” Peter smiles, feeling himself blush, “Text me your review of the toy,” he says before you leave.

“I will,” you smile back at him, wave, and close the door.

Peter waits a few moments until he thinks you’ve arrived at your door. Are you going to throw yourself on your bed as soon as you get in? Shower first? Are you going to slowly take off all your clothes, caress your body to turn yourself on? Seduce yourself? Or are you going to push your pants down just a few inches and shove the vibrator between your legs?

Whatever you’re doing, thinking of any of those scenarios makes Peter hard immediately; that, and the tension from today that he can finally release.

He moves to the side of the bed that you were just lying on, and the sheets still smell like you.

Peter unbuckles his belt and pushes down his jeans, grabbing himself through his boxers and instantly feeling a sense of relief.

He imagines you lying in your bed, right now, two fingers between your legs. You’re so wet from being with Peter, the guy you’re into, all day, that your fingertips easily glide over your skin.

Peter shifts and runs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading the precum. The warm, familiar pressure is already building up in Peter’s body, and he slides his fist up and down himself faster.

In Peter’s mind, you’re spreading your lips now, holding the vibrator against your clit. You jolt at the first contact and smile, knowing you’re about to feel nothing but bliss.

Your body relaxes and you let the vibration take over completely, chasing your orgasm that’s so close after only a minute. You throw your head back when you cum, your eyebrows scrunched together. Your legs start shaking once you can’t take it anymore, but you press the vibrator to your clit during the last few aftershocks.

Peter cums at the same time as you do in his imagination. He’s spilling over his abs and his hands, eyes screwed shut in pleasure.

He lies in his bed for a few more moments, sighing as he cleans up the mess he just made. He gets a message from you: Had a nice day btw :) Can’t wait to see you again tomorrow <3

He smiles and texts back, too exhausted to feel bad for what he just did.

Tomorrow will be the third day in a row that you’re spending time together and you’re showing no signs of getting tired of him. But at this rate, it seems like Peter will never know what being with you while you orgasm is actually like.

He can be patient, but he doesn’t know if he’s waiting for something that will never happen. 

He doesn’t even care about the sex, he just wants to hold your hand and know what it means, know that it means that you’re in a romantic relationship.

He’ll give you all the time you need, that’s all he can do. He simply can’t confess his feelings, he can plan on doing it and dream about it as much as he wants, but when he’s standing in front of you he can’t risk losing you.

Maybe one day he’ll be brave enough, and who knows, maybe you’re thinking the exact same thing right now, trying to be brave but you just can’t.

Maybe.

*

Peter knocks at your door the next day, ready to get pancakes like you always do on Sundays. There’s a lot of commotion behind the door and you take a while to open it.

“You’re early,” you say, hair messy and overall dishevelled.

“Am I? I don’t mind waiting,” Peter says.

“I’ve just quickly got to shower, you can go back to your room or wait here, whichever you want.”

“No problem, I’ll just wait here.” Peter feels as if that’s the wrong answer because you don’t exactly look thrilled that he’ll be in your room, but you still let him in with a small smile. He knows that you can’t be mad at him and by the time Peter’s on your bed and you're about to go to the bathroom, you’re giving him a genuine smile and say you won’t be long.

Peter gets out his phone as he hears you turning on the water and he drops to his back on your bed.

Just as he’s about to go on Instagram, he hears a quiet, mechanical whirring. He wouldn’t be able to pick up on it without his enhanced hearing.

He hears how you smack your hand over your mouth, but you’re not quick enough. Peter still heard a tiny moan.

So that’s why you didn’t want Peter coming in. You’ve probably been making yourself cum all night and you weren’t finished with the last round.

Peter sits up and tries to stick his fingers in his ears, but even if he can’t hear you anymore he’s still got the vivid image of you in his head, only a wall separating you two.

He stands up and looks for something to distract himself before he gets hard, but to make things even worse, Peter’s eyes land on a pair of panties next to your bed.

He feels like a perv as he picks them up. He can see your arousal still glistening in them, and it’s like they’re calling out Peter’s name.

He’s about to lift them to his face when he hears you turning off the water. Peter stuffs the panties into his jeans pocket quickly and out of reflex. He stiffly sits on your bed, unsure if he still has enough time to pull your underwear out of his pocket again and throw it under your bed. 

He’s too nervous to hear what you’re doing, his ears ringing, and before he can bring himself to quickly put your underwear back, you’re coming out of the bathroom, dressed and ready to go.

With your innocent rambling about college he manages to calm down but you and your stupid vibrator are still on his mind. But it’s a good thing that you two can talk about stuff like that, so maybe he’ll get his mind off it once he asks you about it.

“So, is it good?” He asks you as you slide into the booth at the place you always go to for pancakes.

“Is what good?”

“Your, your vibrator thing? You didn’t send me a review,” he says.

“Oh yeah, sorry,” you laugh, “It’s so good, oh my god. I’m so glad we don’t have roommates here cause I did it like six times last night. I get why people pay so much for it. I mean it’s supposed to simulate oral sex and I can’t imagine that it feels the same but I guess I’ll find out one day.”

“You always have me if you want to find out how it feels.”

He can only gather the courage to say that because of what you once said about sucking his dick for practice so you could suck Andrew’s dick for a better score. The only difference is that you turned out to be joking, but Peter is serious.

He probably sounds too serious too because you give him a questioning, “Huh?”

“Well- well I’m just saying if you wanna compare your toy to oral sex then I... you know... my tongue is available to you,” he says it exactly how it comes to his mind, unsure if he should make it sound more like a joke.

You laugh, declaring it a joke yourself, “Okay, thanks. You’re so cute.”

It’s not ideal but the fact that you’re not running away from him and gagging shows him that at least the thought of Peter going down on you doesn’t disgust you. The fact that you made a joke about going down on him first, even if that was weeks ago, gives Peter a tiny bit of hope that maybe his instinct has been right all this time. Maybe you do like him back and you just need a bit more time.

“Um, I heard that next week there’s going to be loads of shooting stars. I was thinking we could drive out of the city and go stargazing. I already asked James and he said we can take his car–the truck, it’s big enough for us to lie down in while we look at the sky, it’s going to be warmer next week too and–”

“I’d love to,” you grin.

He mirrors your smile immediately because it actually took a lot of convincing for Peter’s friend James to let Peter have his car. And more importantly, looking at the stars sounds very romantic. He wasn't sure if he should invite you to something so obviously romantic.

What if it makes you realise that Peter likes you and you distance yourself from him because you don’t feel the same?

What if you do feel the same, but you need your time and it’s too early for a date-like activity?

But what if... what if it’s just the right thing?

You hold hands, you’ve slept in a bed together, so Peter doubts you will be freaked out by stargazing. But Peter can already feel the butterflies just thinking about lying under the night sky with you, and what if you don’t?

But maybe Peter is ready for the risk after all. He’ll see if you’re enjoying yourself, try to see in your beautiful eyes if you’re as smitten as him. He's realised that he’ll have to try one day and now that you’ve agreed to his plan, it feels like this is the right timing, the right thing. Maybe he’ll even ask you how you feel, or make a comment about how romantic the situation is.

And if you and Peter belong together, then maybe it’s time for you. He certainly feels that he’s ready. He’s not expecting a kiss, he’s not expecting anything except the tiniest hint that a romantic night with Peter doesn’t leave you cold. That would be more than enough to keep him going for so many more months to come.

He can wait if you need time but he’s just one man and his passion for you burns so brightly inside him that he just needs something, no matter how small it is.

You two walk home, your bellies filled with pancakes and warmth from seeing your person. No matter if it’s platonic or romantic, Peter would be blind if he didn’t see that he makes you happy and how much you glow and grin and his presence. 

You hang out on campus for a bit more but you tell him you still need to study and you’ll see him tomorrow (he tries not to think about how you’re probably lying and are simply going to use your vibrator over and over).

Peter changes into sweats once he gets to his room and as he’s putting his jeans away he notices something pink peeking out of the pocket. Your panties. He completely forgot about them.

He carefully pulls them out, holding them like they’re a sacred treasure.

Making himself comfortable on his bed, he takes a deep breath before bringing your underwear up to his face.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting your arousal to smell like, not like this, but it’s even better. 

It smells heavenly, just like everything else about you.

He bunches your panties up in his hand and presses them against his face, inhaling your scent while he reaches a hand under his sweatpants and strokes himself. 

He’s been hard since he remembered he had your panties and he doesn’t even think about you making yourself wet, your smell alone has him coming undone within seconds.

He does it again before going to bed, this time wrapping the panties around his hand so he’s jerking himself off with them. He bites his t-shirt in an attempt to muffle his moans as the material slides up and down his cock.

He fucks his fist as hard and as fast as he can, his bed starting to squeak from the intensity of it.

Your wetness on your panties has long dried but the thought of your arousal so close to his dick has him–once again–reaching his orgasm pathetically fast. He sighs after he cums, examining the panties to make sure he pulled them away in time and there’s none of his cum on them.

He wants to save them for another time; as many times as they’ll still have your addicting smell on them.

He cleans the mess off himself, his cum ending up in a tissue that he throws into the trash can with all the other tissues. He’ll empty it before you come over the next time.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡

You’ve been driving for half an hour now, the city nothing but a few lights in the rearview mirror. 

You find a spot next to a field, not a soul to be seen anywhere near you. You get the blankets and snacks to make yourselves comfortable in the back of James’s pickup truck that Peter borrowed.

“Look,” you point towards the sky, but Peter misses the shooting star. He goes back to looking at your beautiful face, only to find your eyes already on him.

He feels your hand on the side of his face, pushing his head to face the sky again, “Look at the stars, not at me,” you say and he can hear the grin in your voice. You’re enjoying yourself, and that’s all that matters. You want him to enjoy himself too, not knowing that your face is so much more interesting to look at.

After a few moments of staring into the brightly lit sky–it never looks like this in the polluted city–he has to admit, the night sky isn’t bad either.

It only takes a few seconds until another shooting star races across the sky and you share an excited look, “Did you see that?” You ask.

“You’re supposed to make a wish,” Peter whispers, eyes closed as he wishes for a relationship with you.

You’re still looking at him when he opens his eyes, your gaze intense, eyes flitting across his face.

“Did you make a wish?” Peter asks. You nod and slowly divert your gaze towards the masterpiece of nature above you again.

He can’t shake the feeling that your wish also had something to do with him. Something romantic. He always overthinks and doubts himself but this is one thing he’s sure about.

But the moment is fleeting and Peter doesn’t find the words to say. You’re back to looking at the stars, and he doesn’t want to have to grab your face to kiss you.

He swallows down the disappointment and tries to enjoy the time with you, his dear friend. Not many people have a friendship like yours and at this moment he just tries to be grateful for that.

“Peter?” Your voice is quiet.

“Mhm?”

“I’m so glad we met,” you turn to your side, your whole body facing him now. He can hear the raw emotion in your voice, he thinks he can even see tears in your eyes. That’s what your shared love does to Peter too. He could cry just thinking about it.

“Me too,” he says, reaching for your hand, trying to bring the monstrosity of his feelings into words to let you know that nothing has made him as happy as meeting you, but the words won’t come out. 

“Our friendship means so much to me,” you say, and it stings. In this romantic moment, cuddled up beneath the stars, is that all Peter will ever be to you? A friend?

You continue, “I‘m sorry if I ruin it with what I‘m about to do.”

“What–”

You lean in and kiss Peter.

The world stops. Nothing matters, nothing but your lips on Peter’s. He always thought he’d be overcome with great excitement when you first kiss, an explosion of fireworks in his mind and his insides, but he feels at peace. It simply feels right.

“Did I just ruin our friendship?” You whisper, and it’s then that Peter realises that he barely kissed you back. He was too stunned to.

He puts his hands on your face and pulls you in, pressing his lips against yours over and over.

“You didn’t ruin our friendship, you turned it into something better, so much better. And you know that our friendship is hard to beat,” Peter says.

You let out a laugh of joy, “It is,” and you kiss him again, slinging your arms around his neck to pull him as close as you can.

Your lips are soft, so so soft, and even in the cold night, Peter feels warm because he has your body against his.

“Could you maybe uh… slap me?” Peter asks.

“Um, what?”

“Just so I know I’m not dreaming. Please.”

You pinch his cheek instead and you both smile. Peter’s not waking up. He’s already awake. It’s not a dream, this is actually happening.

The fireworks come after all, an explosion of happiness shooting through his chest when he realises that this is real.

He hugs you tight, as tight as he can without breaking you.

Peter’s heart drops when you pull away and tears stain your cheeks, “What-what’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing, nothing,” you put a hand on his chest, “I’m just so happy.” Your voice breaks as more tears rush down your face but your eyes are full of happiness.

Tonight, Peter was hoping for a hint that maybe in the future you see something more than friendship between you two too. What he got was all of you. A confession of your feelings, a raw exposure of your deepest emotions, vulnerability. But you trust him. And he’s so glad you do. He’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and safe and comfortable. 

He starts crying too, just a few tears, either because he’s seeing you cry or because it’s the first time in his life that he’s ecstatic enough to experience happy tears—he’s been waiting for this for so long, unsure if it would ever even happen. All the doubt from the last months tumbles away – none of it matters anymore. You kissed him. 

“I really want to blow my nose but I don’t want to leave you,” Peter sniffles.

You look at him, “Go blow your nose, Peter.”

“Okay.”

“I have some tissues in my bag.”

You keep your hand on Peter’s leg while he reaches for your bag and half a minute later you’re reunited again with you lying in Peter’s arms.

You drove all the way to look at the stars but you can’t keep your eyes off each other, never going more than a minute without kissing. It takes a few more minutes for you to pretend that the stars are more interesting than Peter, and you straddle him once you decide you can’t go any longer without being as close to him as possible.

Peter wraps his arms around your waist, enjoying your weight on him. The kisses turn from pecks into something more, but it’s soft and unhurried. You’re taking your time with Peter, savouring the feel of him while Peter takes it all, takes all you give him.

Your wet mouths on each other is the only sound far and wide; even mother nature is quiet as you kiss Peter in the back of this truck, out in the country with no one else around.

You shift, your lips never leaving Peter’s, and start grinding against him, slowly.

He squeezes your waist harder as it becomes difficult to control himself. The only thing stopping him from ruining his pants is the fact that you’re both wearing jeans, so you’re narrowly missing Peter’s hardness, doing what feels good for you.

You stop abruptly with horror in your eyes and Peter strokes your back, “Everything okay? Why’d you stop?”

You look down, a bashful smile on your lips, “I didn’t realise I was doing that.”

Peter stops himself from groaning. He’s getting more turned on with every passing second.

“You don’t have to stop on my behalf.”

After two seconds of contemplation, you kiss Peter again, adjusting your position. You both gasp into each other’s mouths when you’ve perfectly aligned your bodies, and they start moving perfectly in tune with one another.

“I’ve been dreaming of having you on top of me for so long,” Peter says, hands now on your hips, feeling your every movement.

“And I’ve wanted to be on top of you.. for so long,” you’re distracted, pushing yourself up with your hands on Peter’s chest, your voice faltering as you hold in a moan.

Peter feels incredible – everything you do makes him feel incredible. 

So incredible that he doesn’t know how he hasn’t cum yet, but he’s trying so hard not to.

He nearly moans when you grab his hoodie harder and you whimper, “I’m so close.”

One hand is at your jeans, trying to undo the buttons but you can’t, too lost in pleasure.

“Peter, unbutton my jeans,” you say–or rather whimper, “Please.”

And even though he’s on the brink of coming, nothing matters more than your orgasm right now, so he quickly fumbles with the buttons and opens them, your hand disappearing down your pants immediately.

Peter grabs the backs of your thighs as you cum on top of him, your face more gorgeous than he could have ever imagined, so pretty and so vulnerable just for him. He cums at the same time as you, trying to hide it but his hips push up against yours nevertheless.

You let yourself fall to Peter’s side, hiking your leg up over his lap. Peter puts his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“Did you uh..” you look up at him, half teasing him, half unsure if it even happened.

Peter drags a hand over his face, “Yeah… I.. came in my pants.”

“Oh,” you try not to laugh, “Sorry.”

He looks at you, “No, don’t apologise, that was one of the best moments of my life.”

You give him baby wipes from your bag while you pack the stuff and wait for him in the car. He reluctantly hands you the baby wipes when he gets in next to you, looking at your lap.

“What?” You ask.

“I’ve known how you smell for nearly a week now and I don’t know how much longer I can go without having a taste of you.” He’s thinking about your panties, safely stored in his room but they’ve lost even the last traces of your smell.

You follow Peter’s eyes towards your crotch and figure out what he’s talking about, “How… how do you know how I smell?” 

Shit. 

He forgot that you’re not supposed to know that. 

But maybe, subconsciously, he said it on purpose so he can get any secrets out before you two get serious. Or maybe he’s just a dumbass, but he’s trying to look at the bright side. He’s not capable of any negative feelings when you just kissed him.

“Peter?” You ask. You don’t sound mad, you’re just curious.

“I uh, I took a pair of underwear from your room,” he starts.

“The pink ones? I’ve been looking for them.”

“Yeah, they’re pink. And it was the day after you got that clit sucking toy thing so I kept imagining you using it and then the smell made it so much more real…” he says, head hanging low in shame. You still don’t sound mad or grossed out but you haven’t heard all of it yet.

“Go on.”

“I used your underwear to um… jerk off,” he doesn’t meet your eyes until he hears your next words.

“That’s kind of hot,” you bury a hand in his hair, looking at him like you want to eat him up.

“R-really? You’re not mad?”

You shake your head and lean over to kiss him and Peter feels his blush up to his ears.

“I do want my panties back though.”

He tells you you’ll get them back and starts the engine to drive back.

“Wait,” you say, “Didn’t you want a taste?”

He immediately stops the car and leans over. 

“I- well, I didn’t get a chance to get that wet but..”

“I’ll take anything,” Peter pleads.

You kiss his nose and unbutton your jeans, your fingers disappearing beneath them. He hears the wetness and is hard at once. And that’s when you didn’t have a chance to get that wet? You pull two glistening fingers out and bring them in front of his lips.

His cheeks heat up when he leans forward to take them into his mouth. 

He moans at the taste. Sweet yet tangy. He wants to bury his face in you immediately; but you seem tired and he’ll have plenty of opportunities to do that another time.

Peter pulls you close and kisses you, he’s not that good with words so he hopes his tongue in your mouth tells him how much he wants you. It doesn’t have to be now, he just wants you to know.

“I like you.” It slips out of Peter’s mouth when you pull away from the kiss but his words make you connect your lips to his again.

“I like you too,” you smile, nearly laughing because it should probably have been obvious to Peter as soon as you kissed him. Leaning back in your seat in content, you look at Peter with those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Those four little words could make him cry happy tears again but he pulls himself together when you turn on one of your favourite songs and he turns away when you use the baby wipes. 

Before he drives you two home, a thought pops into Peter’s head; a thought that he’s had time and time again and he has to make sure that you know exactly how he likes you.

“But I um… I want you to know that I really do like you, as a person, romantically. I– of course I enjoyed what just happened–you have no idea just how much–”

“I think it was obvious how much you enjoyed it, Peter,” you interrupt him with a teasing smile that makes him blush and stutter for a few seconds before he continues.

“So, while, of course, I’m into you sexually, the emotional and romantic part is so much more important to me, and I need you to know that. But I’ve had so many sexual thoughts about you and, now that I’ve told you that I had your underwear and everything–”

“So you feel bad that you’ve had sexual thoughts about me?” You sum it up and Peter closes his mouth and nods.

“Well, don’t. Peter, in the last month I’ve spent every minute away from you with my fingers between my legs, imagining–wishing they were yours. I’m glad I was not the only one, it’s nice to hear that you’ve been as affected as I’ve been.”

“Are you sure? Because I remember that time when you said how all guys on campus just think with their dicks and how I’m different from them but I’m really not that different. If I’m not thinking about hugging you or thinking about your smile, then I’m always thinking about getting in your pants. And that is a lot of the time. And I’m sure that, even if you’ve thought about me in that way too, I’ve thought about you way more and I just need to know if you think I’m a perv or something.”

“Peter, hey,” you cup his cheek, “I don’t think that. And you don’t think with your dick. You just said you’ve wanted me for months and you didn’t even kiss me. You’re the opposite of those guys that have nothing but sex on their minds so that they can’t even think straight and ruin friendships with girls. You didn’t do that. You thought about my and your feelings and about our connection rather than getting in my pants.”

“But I did think a lot about getting into your pants,” he sighs.

“I thought about you getting into my pants too. That’s fine. That’s the beauty of liking someone, there’s not just the romantic side but also the sexual side. But you didn’t let the sexual side control you and you cared about my feelings first and foremost. Don’t feel bad for thinking about having sex with me, I’m glad you do. But you do so much more than that. You’re nothing like those guys.”

“I’m not like the other guys?” Peter laughs and then kisses you. (He still can’t believe he’s been kissing you all night). You shake your head, reassuring him.

Hearing you say that helps him immensely. He never felt bad about imagining what having sex with you would be like. It was the fact that it was without your knowledge and he had no idea if you’d be grossed and creeped out if you knew about it because you only saw him as a friend. He was scared of making you uncomfortable if you ever found out.

But you’ve found out now and you’re not just saying that it’s okay for him to think about that, but that you have thoughts about it too. (And now his thoughts are going to be even better, knowing that you might be thinking the same thing as him and his fantasies might turn into more than just fantasies).

The journey back has both of you smiling; what just happened still seems unreal, but every shared grin reminds Peter that it really did happen.

It breaks Peter’s heart when he delivers you back to your room, but he can tell you need sleep and he’s not exactly wide awake either. You kiss him like you mean it and you don’t pull away until you’re breathless.

When he gets to his room, Peter quickly puts your panties in his laundry basket so he won’t forget, and then he throws himself onto his bed and squeals loudly. He doesn’t care if anyone hears, he’s happy and he doesn’t mind if people know.

He gets a message from his next-door neighbour Brian:

Bro, you okay?

I heard a weird noise

He texts back: Y/n kissed me :)))))

Brian: About time, happy for you!

Peter considers going over to talk to his friend and tell him all about tonight. He’s tired but there’s no way he’ll sleep now anyway.

He then gets a phone call from you, and he picks up immediately.

“Peter?”

His face drops at your unsure voice. Did you change your mind?

“Yeah?”

“Did… did that really happen?” He thinks he can hear something positive in your voice but it’s hard to tell over the phone.

“It did.”

“Oh,” you say, “Good. I’m having a hard time believing it actually happened. I’ve been waiting for so long.”

He smiles again immediately, “Trust me, it hasn’t fully sunken in yet for me either.”

“Do you maybe wanna come over?” You ask, “I know it’s late but it’s the weekend so..”

He jumps to his feet and sets off instantly, “I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.”

You giggle, “Me neither. I guess I was tired, but I’ll just be thinking about you all night anyway.”

You stay on the phone with him until he’s at your door, pulling him in for a kiss before he’s even in your room.

You push Peter onto the bed, lie on top of him, and hug him so tight that he can barely breathe. This would be the best way to go.

You’re both exhausted yet excited and interrupt each other with a kiss every few minutes while you’re talking about anything that comes to your mind.

“How long have you liked me?” You ask.

Peter smiles as he thinks back to the first time you met, “You made me nervous from the start because you’re so pretty, and then we talked about such personal things the first time we met. But I didn’t realise just how attracted to you I was until class a few days later when you were laughing about Professor Garfield’s jokes and talking about his ass.”

You pout and cup Peter’s cheek, “And then later I even made that joke about sucking his dick for a better score. Aw no, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he shrugs, “You just came on top of me and not him.”

You hide your face in his neck at the reminder that you just nearly had sex with Peter outside. His hand rubs over your back as if he’s not blushing at the thought of it.

“When did you start liking me?” He asks and you lift your head again.

“I thought you were cute the first time I saw you and then when we talked in the kitchen I knew I’d have to keep you because I immediately felt comfortable around you. And then… I don’t know. You just did your thing. And then my heart did its thing too.”

“I’m glad my charm worked on you.”

“It worked wonders,” you push yourself up on your hands and kiss Peter again, staying on top of him for a while until his lips feel sore.

“But regardless of this romantic… and sexual side,” you shyly smile at each other, “I meant what I said. Our friendship means a lot to me. And I’m glad we became friends before anything else.”

“Me too.”

He knows what you mean. Being friends allowed you two to get comfortable around each other first without any pressure to do things to make you attractive to the other person. Now you have a solid base of trust and you know each other; you don’t have to worry about only showing your best sides like other couples do in the beginning stages. You know each other inside out, (except for the fact that you’ve liked each other for a while — but that’s different), the good, the bad, the ugly – yet you’re still choosing each other. Happily so. 

You both lie on your sides, Peter’s hand reaching over to rest on your hip. He can’t help but smile the whole time.

“Were you planning to kiss me? Or was it spontaneous?”

“I’ve been thinking about how it would feel to kiss you for months now, but for some reason it never occurred to me to make the first move. I was pretty sure you like me but the time went on and you didn’t make a move and I got scared that I’d ruin our friendship if I totally misinterpreted everything and you didn’t like me back. 

“And I would have never forgiven myself for that. But when we were lying in the back of that truck, underneath the stars, I don’t know, it was so romantic and you were looking at me with so much adoration that there’s no way I wouldn’t have kissed you. My heart was leading me, I only gathered the courage because my body did what it knew I had to do, I was not in control at that moment, but I guess sometimes it’s good to give up control. But it was definitely spontaneous.”

Peter leans down so his face is right in front of your chest and he whispers, “Thank you, heart,” to which he hears your gorgeous laugh. Your whole body moves with your giggles, pushing your chest even closer to his face. It takes a second for him to get the willpower to pull his face away again.

You connect your lips to his a few more times, Peter’s heart fluttering with every passing second.

“Just so you know, I have liked you all this time, you were right. But I felt the same as you and you’re the most important person to me so I didn’t want to take even the slightest risk when it came to us. There were times when I thought our friendship would even survive me confessing my feelings and you not feeling the same, but by not telling you there was always the hope that you did like me. 

“But if I told you and you didn’t feel the same, even if our friendship survived, it wouldn’t have mattered because it would have broken my heart into a million pieces. And I couldn’t put myself through that-”

“I’d never do that. I’ll take good care of your heart, Peter.”

“I know you will.”

You share a small kiss, Peter intertwining your hands.

“Okay, looking back, I probably should have known that you like me as more than a friend. Your love for my legs gave it away, but at the time I didn’t realise-”

“How do you know that I love your legs?” Peter asks as he turns red, looking at your thighs and resisting the urge to put his hand on one of them.

“When you were drunk, you told me how much you love them. You were basically drooling because of them.”

“Oh.. I don’t remember that. But I do love them.”

“I know,” you smile as you place one of his hands on your thigh and he squeezes the flesh.

You lie next to each other for a while, breath evening out and Peter thinks you’ve fallen asleep until he hears your voice, “Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“I still can‘t believe that this is actually happening. It‘s like when you‘re at a concert and you don‘t realise that you‘re seeing your favourite artist live and in person, and afterwards you still haven’t realised, and you never really get how lucky you were.”

Peter turns to his side to face you, his tired brain taking a while to answer, but he’s satisfied with what he says, “But a concert only happens once, and we‘ll be together forev— a long time. And longterm. We have plenty of time to realise that it‘s real. Maybe we‘ll realise if you kiss me again.”

You grin immediately and lean in to connect your mouth to Peter’s.

He understands what you’re saying, he can’t quite believe it either. It’s been too long for it to be a dream, he knows that it’s real, but it’ll take a few days for him to realise that he really is the luckiest person on earth. 

He’s grateful that you two have something so beautiful that it nearly feels impossible.

You touch each other for a bit, not sexually, you’re just touching each other’s skin, realising more and more that this is reality.

You lazily make out for a few more minutes until Peter drifts off into the most peaceful sleep he’s ever had, with you in his arms.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★ﾟ:*:･｡ 

It’s been a few weeks since that one eventful night and you’re spending even more time with each other than before. Making out with you has become Peter’s new hobby.

He loves that you’re experiencing all your sexual firsts together. You haven’t actually done anything more than kiss since the night under the stars, and he’s more than happy to be patient if you need it but he’s looking forward to more.

“Is it okay if we don’t go all the way yet?” You ask him while you’re both hydrating and eating fruit between makeout sessions, “I definitely want to soon, but maybe not… not yet.”

Peter pulls you on top of his lap and holds you, “We established that the very first time we met, didn’t we? Of course it’s okay if we wait.”

“Okay,” you kiss him, “I don’t mean that we can’t do anything though.”

Peter licks his lips when he realises you’re planning something. You push Peter’s chest so he lies on his back and you slot your hips over his. His eyes flutter shut when he feels your mouth on the special spot on his neck and you slowly start grinding on him.

He grabs your hips and opens his eyes again when you stop kissing him to focus on that sweet place between your legs rubbing against Peter.

You stop when your eyes meet, “You have to close your eyes.”

“I wanna see you though.”

“It’s different from the first time, we’re not out during the night. And the position’s uncomfortable.”

“Then let’s change it.”

He’s already hard and if you continue like that he won’t take much longer; but your pleasure is more important to him so he pulls his sweat shorts further up his leg and lifts you onto his thigh. 

Your eyes go down and you realise what he wants you to do, “But you–”

“Shh, this is about you right now, okay? And I’ll cum as soon as you do anyway so don’t worry about me. This okay?”

He sees how his words give you confidence and you nod, letting yourself fully sit down on his thigh. Peter knew he liked your pretty skirt for more than aesthetic reasons because the only thing between your warm pussy and Peter’s skin is your underwear. He could cum from the feeling of your wet heat through your panties alone, but he tries to focus on making you breathless with his kisses once you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face close.

He holds you as you rock yourself on his thigh, becoming surer in your movements after a while, finding what feels best for you. Peter instinctively flexes the muscles in his thigh when you change your position slightly, and your little gasp tells him to continue doing it.

Your wetness slowly but surely drenches your panties and reaches Peter’s skin. You grab his shirt hard and bury your other hand in his hair, pulling. Peter tries bouncing his leg up and down and is rewarded with the sweetest moan coming from your mouth, followed by a gasp and a whispered: “I’m gonna cum.”

Your legs get weaker while you’re coming but, through his own approaching orgasm, Peter pushes your hips in whatever direction you want them to go and together you try to savour your highs for as long as possible. 

Out of breath, you’re still holding onto Peter tightly. As your hand in his hair slowly lets go, you press a kiss to his head, your hand on his shirt easing too as you smooth down the material.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?” You ask carefully but Peter shakes his head and purses his lips for you to give him a kiss, and you smile when you do.

“Oh, wait did you really cum?” You’re glancing down at the wet spot on his pants but your eyes widen when you get off him and realise how much you leaked onto his thigh yourself.

“I don’t know how I couldn’t cum when I have the prettiest, sexiest woman in the world having an orgasm on my lap.”

You lean your head against his shoulder, hiding your face from him while your cheeks heat up. You get off him and he goes to the bathroom to clean up.

You’re absentmindedly biting your lip when Peter comes back and he pulls you out of your daydream with a kiss.

“Do you wanna eat my pussy?”

Peter freezes for a second and then jumps onto the bed. You laugh, “Wait, I need a break first.”

“Okay,” he sits down next to you and swallows. He’s hard already just from the thought of going down on you. He couldn’t be happier that you want him to do it, he’s had daydreams (well, he’s mostly thought about it during nighttime) about it so many times.

“Do you want me to give you a massage?” He asks. It’s something you’ve done for him countless times and he doesn’t return the favour as often as he’d want to because your massages are heavenly and he can barely get up after.

“Yes please,” you lie down on your stomach, “But don’t stand on me.” You both chuckle.

Your massages consist of kneeling or standing on Peter’s back. It sounds painful but to him it’s the best thing he’s ever felt. He doesn’t just like your weight on his lap, he likes you on top of him in various scenarios.

He’s kneading your shoulders for about a minute when you suddenly sit up, “Okay, the break is over, can you eat me out now?”

A smile spreads over Peter’s face and you kiss him, a similar expression on your lips.

You get comfortable on your back and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your skirt.

Peter sits between your legs, speechless, thumb rubbing over the large wet spot on your panties. You gasp when he touches you there but Peter can’t continue before showing you how much he loves your tits first. They're perfect.

He kisses his way up your stomach, inching further up until your nipple is in his mouth and your hand goes into his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of one of your boobs in his hand and the other one against his tongue until you push his head away.

He worries he’s hurt you but you whimper and spread your legs, pulling them up against your chest, “Please,” is all you can manage to say. Peter’s hands wander down your sides and between your legs, his fingers gliding over your panties.

Peter drags your underwear down your legs slowly, a string of your arousal staying connected to your panties momentarily. He licks his lips and kneels in front of the bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress.

With your legs on his shoulders, Peter kisses your clit once, watching as your eyes flutter shut. He’s forgetting that this is your first time too, so your expectations probably aren’t too high. And you’re wet from your earlier orgasm and it seems to be doing wonders for you; you already start arching your back when Peter licks up and down your clit a few times.

He savours the taste of you on his tongue, sweeter than anything he’s ever tasted, and knowing that he’s tasting you because you’re wet for him makes things even better.

As he plays with your clit, his tongue in your pussy, he puts a hand on your stomach. It’s just because he doesn’t know where else to put his hand, but you grab some of his fingers, holding his hand and Peter’s convinced his eyes must be shaped like hearts right now. He’s always loved holding hands with you.

He makes out with your pussy, your juices all over his mouth, and he starts sucking your clit.

“Peter..” your voice comes out as a whimper and you grip his hand harder. You arch further into him and your eyes squeeze shut, and Peter can tell you’re coming – on his tongue, with his face between your legs, just like he’s imagined so many times but it’s so much better than what he ever could have wished for.

He only pulls his mouth away from you slowly, not wanting the moment to end. You don’t let go of his hand, instead using your intertwined fingers to pull him up so Peter can kiss you. 

You hug him like you never want to let him go again and Peter gladly complies. He wraps his arms around you and lies on top of you for as long as you’ll have him.

“I’m too tired to return the favour,” you say after a while.

“That’s okay. I just wanted to make you feel good.” 

He’s glad you said it because then you won’t need to find out that he came in his pants ages ago, yet again, and you don’t need to be reminded of what a loser your boyfriend can be and how you’re the opposite.

Peter lifts his head so you’re looking at each other, and you cup his cheeks to kiss him on the lips a few times.

“I’m getting cold,” you say.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

You smile and kiss his forehead, “I should get dressed. And I need to pee. But you can cuddle me again after.” Peter gets up and scoops you up in his arms, earning a squeal from you.

He carries you to the bathroom and even though he’s completely dressed and you’re naked and vulnerable, he can tell you’re content and comfortable by the way you drop your head to his shoulder and let him hold you.

You’re in the bathroom while gets the clothes you asked him to get from your room, but he changes first so he’s not walking around the student accommodation with a mess in his pants.

You’re sitting on the bed in all your naked glory when he gets back. He stares for a second, smiling softly as he realises how lucky he is to get to see you like this, that he’s the only one in the world who does and that you want him to see you like this.

It’s later in the night and you’re in bed, you sitting on top of Peter, kissing him. It’s not sexual; you’re enjoying each other’s company, touching each other, locking lips over and over and over. Peter couldn’t be happier. There’s a smile on his face the whole time.

“I like kissing you. Like a lot,” you say.

“I love kissing you.”

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna be my boy—”

“Girlfriend? Do you wanna be my girlfriend?” He interrupts you, somewhat surprised.

You grin and throw your arms around him, “Yes.”

“Sorry, I wanted to say it. After you made the first move I wanted to do this.”

“Everything okay?” You ask, realising he’s not telling you everything simply by looking at him.

“Well I don’t know, I kind of thought we were together already,” he says and your face softens.

“Oh. I mean we may as well have been. But we never properly talked about it. And just now I realised how sad I was that I couldn't officially call you my boyfriend, so I wanted to make sure that I could.”

“You’re right, now we have talked about it. And now it’s official. The most beautiful woman in the world is officially my girlfriend,” he beams as he cups your cheek and kisses you again. 

You lie down next to him, his arm around you as you cuddle into his side.

After a few moments of looking at Peter, you start giggling, as if you just remembered something funny or embarrassing about him.

“What?” He asks.

“Nothing just, I’m so into you, and you really weren’t sure if I liked you? I know we‘ve talked about how we were both too scared to ruin the friendship but we were both idiots. 

“I mean, I tried to give you the boldest, most obvious signs. I kept holding your hand, talked about me getting off. I changed in front of you, slept next to you half-naked? Peter, I said I’d suck your dick.”

“Yeah but it was only in relation to you sucking professor Garfield’s dick for a better mark.”

“Knowing me, do you think I’d really suck a professor’s dick to get a better score?”

He shrugs, “Well, not when you say it like that, no. But we didn’t know each other that well yet. And hearing the girl you like say she’ll suck another guy’s dick isn’t nice regardless of if she’s being serious or not.”

You pout and cup his face, kissing him a few times, “I only want your dick, promise.”

“And my dick only wants you,” he says, earning a small laugh from you.

“But seriously, I contemplated peeing while you were in the bathroom with me at that party. If there was an obvious sign that I liked you, it would be that,” you joke.

“Just so you know, you can pee in front of me. And as long as you’re okay with that, I’d also feel comfortable peeing in front of you.”

You scrunch up your face, “We’ll avoid it if we can.” You both laugh but you know it would be no big deal and you’d be comfortable with it. It sounds like a weird thing to bond over, but Peter thinks it’s sweet.

“Anyway, I know I brought it up but can we stop talking about peeing so you can go down on me again?”

Peter’s eyes light up, “Yes, yesyesyes,” and he starts kissing down your body.

*

“So,” Peter asks you a few days later, “You know how you said your sex toy is supposed to feel like oral sex? So who’s better? Me or the vibrator?”

You give him an exaggerated pout and scoot closer to him on the bed, ”Don’t make me hurt your feelings.”

You’ve just come back from a date Peter planned. You got take-out from your favourite restaurant and ate it next to the river that goes through the city. You walked for hours, holding hands, talking, getting ice cream and just being with each other.

While Peter loves going out with you, he’s not sure if anything can beat spending time alone with you, in your bed, utterly comfortable and being nothing but yourself. Not to mention that you two can have sex whenever you want to.

“I don’t mind if you say it’s the vibrator, I mean it’s made for making you feel good and I’m just some guy,” Peter says, “It’s literally called a clit-sucker.”

“Sex with you is better but if you’re comparing the toy with you sucking my clit, then the vibrator is better, yes,” you move to his lap and put your arms on his shoulders, linking your hands behind his head.

“Can I use it on you?”

You bite your lip when he says it, “There’s not much you can do, you just hold it against my clit.”

“I’d love to do that.”

You grin and start kissing him.

He flips you around so you’re under him. He slowly takes off all your clothes and you pull off his shirt. He can’t resist getting a taste of you before he starts, humming as he begins eating you out, tongue in your pussy and his thumb on your clit.

You whine when he stops but you both remember that you wanted to use your toy. He kisses his way up your body, your arousal on his lips.

“You’re so hot, I don’t know if I deserve you,” he whispers into your skin as he’s kissing your belly. You tug him up to you to kiss him with such intensity that tells him he deserves you, all of you. You’re made for each other. And you feel it too.

You reach into your bedside drawer and pull out your vibrator. Peter smiles as he spreads your legs and lies down between them.

“Like this?” He turns it on and you adjust the setting, lying back when Peter presses a kiss on your clit and places the toy on your pussy.

You put your hand over his, shifting it so it’s in the perfect place. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder and rests his cheek against your other thigh, occasionally kissing the skin there. He brings his arm over your body, smoothing his hand over your tummy and grabbing one of your tits, playing with your nipple.

Your hands absentmindedly find his hair, burying your fingers in it as he tells you how pretty you are and how he wants you to cum.

You glance at Peter between your legs, smiling and laying your head back down on the pillow. A few moments later he notices your breathing changing and how your hips slightly buck up.

“I’m gonna cum,” you moan, your back arching, and Peter puts his hand over your lower belly to keep you down. Your hand tightens in his hair as frantic breaths and strangled sounds leave your mouth, not able to form any coherent sentence.

After a few seconds, Peter wants to pull the toy away, thinking you’re done, but you hold his hand in place until your legs shake and he feels your belly convulsing under his hand. You’re coming until your head drops to the side and you let go of both his hair and his hand so he pulls away the vibrator.

“Oh–God. That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Sorry if I hurt you,” your hand goes through his hair once more but he kisses your hand instead, “Don’t worry.”

You let your head fall back, your eyes not leaving Peter. The way you’re looking at him is nearly enough to make him cum right then and there, but he takes your hand and kisses you instead.

You wrap your legs around Peter’s waist and pull him as close as you can, “Can we go all the way? I feel so empty, I need you inside of me.”

Peter gulps at your words, pulling his hips away from yours so he doesn’t finish before you’ve even started. “Are you sure? Last week you said you wanted to wait.”

“Yeah, I am. I thought it would take me longer to be comfortable around you when I’m naked but I feel so good, and I like being naked in front of you. I like how you look at me and how it makes me feel,” you smile softly and kiss him.

“I like having you naked in front of me too.”

“I know, that’s why I’m so comfortable. And the fact that I want this so quickly shows me that it’s the right thing and also I just really really need you inside of me.”

“Oh my god,” he whispers, closing his eyes to refocus, “I have to get the condoms.”

“Make sure to hide this first,” your hands go to the front of his sweatpants and he playfully narrows his eyes at you because you know exactly that what you’re doing is not helping his situation.

After another kiss from you, he manages to pull himself away from you and hides his hardness as well as he can. He slips back into his shirt and runs to his room to get the condoms you two bought the other week just so you’d have them.

When he comes back you already have your fingers between your legs, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.”

“Don’t apologise, baby,” Peter says before taking off his clothes in record time and joining you on the bed. 

You make out for a few minutes, forgetting everything else. His fingers wander to your pussy, playing with your clit until you can’t keep kissing him anymore, distracted by the pleasure.

He slips one finger into your pussy first, then two.

“Peter, it’s not enough,” you moan with a desperation in your voice that makes him even harder which, up to this point, felt impossible.

“‘M just checking you can take it, get you used to having something inside of you.”

You sigh into his mouth and give him the dirtiest kiss you ever have. “Just so you know.. I don’t know how long I’m gonna last,” he warns you, afraid of disappointing you.

“I don’t care, I just need you right now.”

“What if I cum immediately once I’m in you?”

You hold his face in your hands, “Fuck, Pete, that’s so hot. I want you to cum inside of me.”

“Don’t say that because I will.”

“Please, please, I’m ready,” you whisper.

“Wait, you mean with a condom right?”

You laugh and nod, kissing him on the nose.

“Okay, just checking,” he says, putting on the condom. 

You hold on to his neck as he lines himself up with you, feeling how wet you are. He pushes into you slowly, making sure you’re okay once he’s inside of you completely, “You okay?”

“Yeah, it feels even bigger inside of me.”

He blushes at you calling his dick big and runs a hand down your cheek, “Should I pull out?”

“No, no. Just give me a second.” 

You both take deep breaths once Peter starts rubbing your clit – you because you’re relaxing, Peter because he’s about to cum if he doesn’t focus.

He has you coming around his dick quickly. You press your chest against Peter’s when your back arches from the pleasure and you kiss the side of his face when you’re coming down from the high.

“Lift me up,” you tell him and you end up pushing Peter down on the bed, straddling his lap.

You place your hands on either side of Peter’s head, leaving him with your tits right in his face. You tell him to fuck you and with his hands on your hips, Peter slowly thrusts into you from below.

Your pussy squeezes him so tight, and you’re so warm, “Fuck, you feel so so good,” he groans. 

You start bouncing on him, meeting his thrusts halfway, now more used to him inside of you.

He closes his eyes, trying to think of something else but your quiet moans and your earlier words about wanting him to cum in you make him orgasm after a few more seconds.

He fucks you until he’s too exhausted to move and you grin down at him, both of you lying down to cuddle. 

You don’t say anything for a few minutes, both exhausted and content, only grinning at each other and occasionally giving the other a lazy kiss before you sit up on him again, your nipples right in front of his mouth.

He takes the opportunity to run his tongue around one, but you lean back, dazed, “No, no, you’ll make me horny again,” you smile, “And I don’t think I can take another orgasm right now.”

He kisses your sternum instead and picks you up in his arms so you can take a shower together.

Peter washes your body for you, taking his time to massage every part of you for a few seconds. He wants to spoil and pamper you and take as much work off your hands as he can. He knows you’d do the same for him.

Once you’re both clean, you stand under the water for a while, Peter’s arms around your waist, your back pulled to his chest. Your breathing is calm and your eyes are closed, completely relaxed against Peter.

“I came in here once,” Peter interrupts the silence.

You slowly open your eyes and turn around to face him, a smile making its way onto your face before it turns into a laugh, “What?”

“It was after that night when I got really drunk. I woke up with this perfect ass right against my crotch,” he squeezes one of your ass cheeks for emphasis. 

“You mean back when we were just friends?” You ask, pulling his arms around your body again, “That feels so long ago.”

“And at the same time like it was yesterday.” “Yeah,” you smile, “I probably would have helped you out if you’d asked.”

“Really?”

“I was already into you then and there’s no way I would have been able to–or wanted to–resist if I found out you were horny because of me. I was coming on my vibrator three times a day wishing it was you instead.”

Peter runs a hand over his face, remembering how scared he was that you’d never like him back, “I was wishing it was me too. I heard you that one time, when you were masturbating while I was waiting for you in there,” he nods his head towards the door to your room.

“You can’t blame me, you saw how that thing makes me cum,” you lean your head on his shoulder, hiding your embarrassment.

The moment you look down and see that Peter’s hard again, he stiffens even more.

“You’re getting harder from me looking at your dick?” You ask, licking your lips.

He nods, putting a hand around the back of your neck and gently pulling you towards him, kissing you to distract you from the blush creeping onto his cheeks.

While your teeth tug at Peter’s bottom lip, your hands smooth down his chest, over his faint happy trail and eventually you wrap your hand around his cock. He gasps at the first contact and opens his eyes, meeting your lust-filled gaze, “I can’t believe I haven’t done this before,” you say, starting to jerk him off with a slightly unsure look on your face.

“Is this okay?” You ask and Peter nods, “Show me how you do it,” you urge, lifting Peter’s hand to wrap it around your own.

With a firm grip, Peter guides your hand, “F-fuck,” is all he can manage to get out apart from a shaky breath. Your free hand runs across his chest, occasionally rubbing over his nipples, making him gasp. 

“I really need you to cum for me right now,” you whisper, looking down at your hand sliding up and down his dick. Your words make him groan and before he can prepare, waves of pleasure flow through him, his cum splashing all over your tummy. He can’t stop coming, especially not when you angle his cock further towards you, your belly now covered in him.

“Fuck,” you both moan at the same time and then you smile at each other. You step away from the spray of the shower, sliding a finger across your skin and sucking it into your mouth.

If he hadn’t already cum three times today, Peter would be hard in half a second. He shakes his head in disbelief, not sure what he did to ever deserve a girlfriend as sexy as you. He runs his thumb over your belly, picking up the rest of his cum on you and you open your mouth before he even asks you to.

He pushes it into your mouth slowly and you hum as he does it. Grabbing your face right after, he kisses you until neither of you can breathe. “Can I eat you out again now?”

You grin immediately, “Yes, but I’m tired.”

After you’ve dried off, he carries you to your bed, making sure you’re comfortable on it before his mouth disappears between your legs. He’s proud of how you grip his hair, grinding your pussy against his face and how you cum on his tongue.

He gets a notification on his phone just as he’s done kissing you after he made you cum. He ordered some food before you two went in the shower and it’s about to arrive.

“Go and get it, I can wait,” you tell him, but he makes sure to kiss your forehead and give you water and baby wipes before pulling on some clothes and rushing downstairs to get the food.

You eat it on your bed with a towel laid down to make sure nothing gets dirty. Peter likes how you randomly grab his hand while you’re eating or asking him to pass you your drink.

With some quiet music playing, you make yourselves comfortable in your bed, cuddling.

“Thank you,” you say, looking at him like he’s responsible for all good in the world.

“For what?”

“For everything. For taking care of me. For being you,” you slide your fingers between his. He picks up your intertwined hands and kisses yours, “It’s my pleasure. Thank you for being you, and for being with me.”

“There’s no one in the world I’d rather be with,” you lean over to kiss him, leaving your lips on his for a few seconds. “This white shirt looks so good on you, it’s my favourite,” you tell him, smoothing down the material and then resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, holding you tight, “You know what looks even better on me?”

“Me?” You ask, already knowing what Peter is going to say and he adores you for it.

“Yes,” he smiles, “You.”

“I like this position, I like hearing your heart beating so clearly,” you say, nuzzling up against him.

“And I like that I can feel a heartbeat as soon as I put my hand here,” Peter smirks, sliding a hand between your legs and immediately feeling the pulsating warmth, even through your panties.

“Don’t blame me for getting turned on when the man I love touches my pussy,” you say, grabbing Peter’s hand into yours and away from your underwear to stop you from getting horny.

It takes both of you a second to realise that you just said that you love him. Probably because you’ve both felt it for a while; first as friends, then as lovers. Even if no one’s said it yet, it was obvious.

“I love you too,” he says softly and that’s when you realise what you just said. You turn towards him and start grinning, meeting Peter’s own wide smile. You start littering his face with kisses until he holds your face in place to kiss your lips. It’s like you melt right into his mouth once your lips touch his.

You spend the rest of the night telling each other that you love the other, giggling and cuddling and kissing until the early morning hours.

  *

Peter wants to sit through this lecture with you on his lap when you get to the lecture hall one minute before the lesson starts and there are no two seats free next to each other.

But you two promised yourselves that you weren’t going to be that annoying couple that has to be together at all times, so you two sit at opposite sides of the room.

Peter’s stomach tingles with jealousy when he sees that you’re sitting next to a guy you know. Brandon. Peter remembers him from the day you and Peter met. When it was Peter’s turn to tell an embarrassing sex story and he had nothing to say, you told Brandon to tell his story instead, distracting everyone and saving Peter.

He smiles when he thinks back to it; who knew that you two would end up in love?

But he hears your giggle through the entire lecture hall, over all the over murmuring, and Peter frowns. He knows it’s stupid if not wrong to be jealous about something so trivial. He’s more than okay with you having a male friend as long as he’s a good person; Peter’s happy about every nice friend you have.

But he’s spent the last few months getting to know you inside and out and you never mentioned Brandon. Now you’re talking to him like you’re best friends. Okay, the thing that bothers Peter the most is that you apparently knew Brandon’s sex story before he told it to the whole party.

Why were you talking to Brandon about sex? And why did you never mention it to Peter?

He knows you’ve done nothing wrong, and it’s ridiculous that he feels like this over a story and you laughing at another man’s jokes. If he was sitting next to you, he’s sure he’d be fine, but it doesn’t help that you’re out of reach.

He’s more curious than jealous, or that’s what he’s trying to tell himself, knowing he has no right to feel this way about such a little thing.

He tries to accept the feeling, tries to focus on what Professor Garfield is saying but throughout the whole lecture Brandon is in the back of Peter’s mind.

By the end of the lesson, he’s more mad than anything else – mad at himself for being jealous. He doesn't want to turn into one of those possessive, toxic and controlling boyfriends. He trusts you and he should be okay with you having dozens of male friends.

He waits for you by the door when the lecture is over, and in the sea of students you and Brandon leave the room separately. Peter’s so focussed on Brandon that he only notices you standing next to him once you hold his hand.

“What’s wrong?” You ask immediately. Peter didn’t know he was being that obvious.

He doesn’t want to drag you into his unnecessary jealousy and insecurity. “No-nothing,” he presses his lips together in a smile and you walk him into a quiet corner.

“What is it?” You sit down and pat the seat next to you for Peter to sit down.

“Well. I don’t know. It’s just, we usually sit together in this class and then we didn’t get to sit together and then you ended up next to a guy you know and I just…” It’s the shortened and less embarrassing version.

You smile, half with pity and half out of amusement, but he knows you’re not trying to make fun of him. “You were jealous? Of Brandon?”

“I don’t know. Kinda. I‘d honestly rather have you look at Andrew’s ass than have you talk to Brandon and giggle at everything he says and–like, I don’t even know him and I just felt insecure because I didn’t feel like I was a part of it,” he looks down, taking a deep breath, “Sorry, of course I don’t mean it like that. Obviously it’s fine if you have male friends. I was just wondering why you haven’t told me about him, because I remember him from the party the first time we met and I realised you never brought him up. And then I got so into my head about being jealous that I felt even worse and now I can’t even tell the jealousy from the being-mad-at-myself apart.”

“Okay, take my hand,” you say, “I love you. And-”

“I love you too,” Peter grins instantly, leaning over to kiss you.

“So, I didn’t tell you about Brandon because I wasn’t thinking about him. If he was important to me I would have introduced you two ages ago. I didn't even realise I was in this class until today. I met him the same night I met you and I was talking to a group of people before we played that game where he told that sex story. But wait.. Peter,” you furrow your eyebrows, “So you remember the story Brandon told?”

“I remember that he told a story, but I was too busy looking at you and being grateful that you helped me out of the situation.”

“Well, his story was about the first time he had sex with his boyfriend. And they’re still together.”

“Oh,” Peter says, dumbfounded, “Now I feel even worse. Why was I so jealous about a guy who has a boyfriend?”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it. We’ve been attached at the hip lately, so of course we're not used to being apart. I’m sure we’ll get used to it in a few days. But you’re jealous for the first time and we’re already talking about it, I’m sure we’ll sort it out. I promise we’ll work it out together.”

He pecks your lips again, “Thank you. I think I was way more surprised about my jealousy than actually being jealous. I trust you and I love you and I do that more and more every day. It’s just that I want you so much that I assume every guy feels the same, because why wouldn’t they? Forgive me if I project that onto them and don’t trust them. But I trust you and that’s what matters and what I’ll try to rely on. I’m sorry for making such a big deal out of something small.”

“Don’t apologise, I’m glad you told me how you feel. You’re already not jealous anymore and you’re talking about it and working it out. That’s what matters. You recognise that it’s unreasonable but jealousy is a normal emotion.”

He gives you a small smile, already understanding himself better thanks to you. You’re right, jealousy is something everyone feels from time to time. He’ll learn how to deal with it, and now that he’s with you, feeling loved and appreciated, he can’t even imagine ever being jealous again. He can tell his love is reciprocated. He trusts you, and that’s all he needs.

You sit together for another while, smiling and saying goodbye when Professor Garfield walks past you. You wait until he’s turned around the corner to say, “Wait, what did you say about his ass earlier?”

Peter chuckles, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just the first time we had this lesson you said something about how nice his ass is.”

“Oh, now I remember. But your ass is the only ass I wanna look at now, you know that?” 

“Really?”

“Really. I wouldn’t have asked you to be my boyfriend if I was interested in anyone else’s ass.”

There’s a comfortable warmth in Peter’s chest at you calling him his boyfriend. He’ll always be happy to be that.

“Well,” he thinks out loud, “There are some guys with nice asses, I can’t deny that. But then we can both admire them, okay? Together.”

You laugh, “You’re so cute. Okay, I’ll let you know when I see a nice ass and we’ll appreciate it together.”

“Good,” Peter smiles, okay with you liking other people’s asses because, after all, those asses don’t have this great connection with you like he does. He’s so much to you than a person with a cute ass.

“But your ass is the nicest,” he adds.

“Thank you," you laugh and kiss his cheek.

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head towards your shoulder. This time Peter feels warmth rushing elsewhere.

“You wanna know what I was thinking about during the whole lesson?”

He nods.

“I was thinking,” you look around to make sure no one else is close enough to hear, “about how I can’t wait to have your dick in my mouth.”

Peter’s heart starts beating twice as fast as it usually does, “My-my- my dick? In your- why would— do you want it to be in your mouth?”

“I do. I had a dream about it last night. And I was gonna wait until tonight to do it but maybe we should do it now to relax you.”

“I.. don’t know if relax is the right word,” he says.

“I’ll do it to show you that I only like you then. And because I really need you.”

Peter’s face falls, “No, shit, I have this class now… no, nevermind, let’s go to my room–”

“No, we said our education and college come first, and that we wouldn’t let our academic performance fall off because of each other.”

“Yeah but I didn’t know that that meant saying no to you…” he looks at his lap and back at you again. 

“To me sucking your dick?” You’re teasing him on purpose now but despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants he’s enjoying it.

“Y-yeah..”

“Go to your class now and I’ll see you tonight,” you kiss him and get up.

“No wait–”

“Bye, baby,” you call out and walk away.

A class has never lasted as long as Peter’s next class. He leaves his bunched up hoodie on his lap the whole time even though he’s cold in just the shirt he’s wearing.

After class, he runs home, going to his dorm room first but you’re not there so he rushes to your room instead. You open the door as if Peter hasn’t been suffering for the past two hours, giving him a quick kiss and sitting back down to read a book.

He gets on his knees in front of you, putting his hands on your thighs, “Please. You can’t be serious right now. I need you.”

You pat the bed next to you and he lies down with a sigh, hoping to get your attention but you keep reading; maybe he can take a nap to make the time pass quicker. You pretend to read for another minute or two and then grin at Peter and straddle him, starting to kiss him. 

“Sorry, I thought it would be fun to tease you but I don’t know what I was thinking. I really want you.”

He’s panting into your mouth after a few moments, already feeling relief as you pull at his belt, taking off Peter’s pants and your and his shirt.

“Let me know uh, how I’m doing,” you say as you get down on your knees in front of the bed.

Your words clear Peter’s mind for a second and he leans down to give you a kiss, “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, by the way.”

You shake your head, “No, I really want to. I just don’t know what to do, so, be patient with me.”

“Always,” he reaches for your hand to kiss it, “So I guess you just– oh my god.” He moans as your mouth wraps around him, all wet and warm.

He makes the mistake of looking at you, the head of his cock in your mouth, your pretty lips against his skin, eyes big and gorgeous and so innocent. He’s close so quickly and motions for you to stop.

“Everything okay?” You ask, already knowing what’s going on though. Peter’s eyes go to your chest, perfect tits pushed together by a pretty bra. If you take that off he doesn’t want to know how fast he’ll cum.

“Yes, more than okay. I love you so much, you know that?”

“I do, but Peter, this is torture for me,” you say seriously.

“What?” He sits up straighter.

“I wanna make you cum so so bad, please just let me, I don’t care how long you last.” You sound so horny that it makes Peter’s cock just that much harder in the way only happens when he’s with you, never when he’s alone.

“Okay. But try to go slow, I wanna enjoy it as long as I can.”

You smirk and he already knows you’ll give it your all, but while he wants to enjoy it as long as possible, he also really wants to cum.

You wrap a hand around him, slapping his dick against your tongue a few times, putting on a show for him. But once you wrap your lips around him, there’s no stopping you.

Peter’s skin glistens with a mixture of your spit and his precum and you keep taking him deeper and deeper until all of him disappears in your mouth. “Fuuuck,” he groans, huffing with a smile, accepting that he’s about to cum.

You start going faster, your wet mouth making a loud, obscene sound against his skin. Peter lies down on his back, barely able to keep his noises in.

“God– oh my god. This is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” his mouth falls open as he cranes his neck to look at you taking his dick. He puts a hand on your head, feeling your every movement up and down his cock.

He cums right down your throat as soon you start moaning, mouth stuffed full of Peter’s dick. You taste the first few drops and then jerk him off so his cum lands on your cheek and the sight is so dirty yet so beautiful.

You’re both panting when Peter is finished and you’re smiling at each other, in silent agreement that that was one of the hottest things you two have ever experienced. Your smile has something shy to it too, unsure how you look with Peter’s cum on your face.

But he’s looking at you with pure admiration, not believing how lucky he is for a bit before pulling you up to kiss you.

“Wait, Pete, you’ll get cu–”

“I don’t care.”

He kisses your mouth, and tasting himself on you is the sexiest thing in the world. He kisses his cum off your skin, connecting your lips afterwards, his tongue in your mouth until the cum is gone.

He wipes his mouth, asking something he’s been thinking about for a while, and he can’t go a second longer without it. “Do you wanna sit on my face?”

You’re taking off your clothes before the question even fully leaves his mouth and he takes in the sight of the prettiest woman alive getting undressed in front of him, for him.

He licks his lips when you slip out of your panties, the holy place between your legs shiny with arousal that’s started running down your thighs.

“You’re so wet.. from going down on me?” He asks, grabbing your thighs as you come closer, straddling him.

You simply nod and while you’re making your way up Peter’s body there’s a moment where your eyes meet for more than a few seconds. You don’t say anything, there’s just mutual appreciation and adoration for one another.

This is something good. Maybe it’s the best thing in the world. It is the best thing in the world.

“I love you,” he says, feeling so much more than those three simple words.

“I love you,” you say, your eyes holding such intensity that he doesn’t think there’s a single person in the world who has ever been as loved as Peter is by you.

He hopes he’s making you feel like the Goddess he sees you as, he adores every inch of you, all the things you’ve ever said to him and every second he’s spent with you.

The moment feels like it goes on forever, and at some point, you both move your heads towards each other, lips meeting in a kiss.

He grabs your ass, ready to drown in your pussy and to make you cum as many times as you want.

“Can I…?” You ask as you lower yourself. 

Peter pulls you towards his face and makes love to you all night. 

You spend the rest of the weekend in each other’s arms, feeling like the luckiest people on earth and you probably are.

☆.｡.:*support a writer and reblog if you enjoyed, it helps out a lot.｡.:*☆

on his desk | p.parker

teacher!peter fucks you on his classroom desk.

pairing: peter parker x fem!reader

warning: smut. not proofread!

w/c: 0.7k

a/n: ye, what the synopsis says.

peter was having a stressful day.

not only, did most of his students fail his test, but he has an overload of tests he needs to grade. he sighed, pushing the front of his hair with his fingers, he leaned against his uncomfortable chair.

he looked at the papers he needed to grade and mentally screamed inside. he felt a buzzing sensation coming from his pocket, knowing it was a message from you.

you always text him during his lunchtime.

peter got his phone out of his pants; "hey, i'm coming over." it said, shrugging, he thought nothing of it.

after few minutes, he heard a polite knock coming from his classroom door. "come in." he says, grading another failed test which earned an annoyed groan from him.

"whoa, there." you enter, holding a disposable container stuffed with sushi.

peter turned to you and gave you a weak smile. you walked over, kissing his cheek. "you okay?" you ask, placing the food on his desk.

he said nothing, grabbing your wrist, pulling you down, towards his lap. his lips immediately started to attack yours. you smiled against his desperate lips as your lips moves in sync with his.

a low groan came out of your mouth when peter started to kiss down your neck. "someone's eager today." you tease, pulling his brown curls as you threw your head back in utter bliss.

peter sucked harshly on your collarbone, making sure to leave a small dark bruise later. "gosh, (y/n), you looked so fucking hot this morning." he smiles at you.

"could say the same thing about you." you reply, leaning down to kiss his soft but chapped lips.

"hmm— i missed you— so— so— much." he says between kisses making you giggle. you slowly started to grind on his very obvious boner.

he lets out a low groan, pulling away from the kiss. you grind a bit faster, "no teasing." he warns before getting up, which made you warp your legs around his waist.

he gently puts you on his desk, shoving the paperwork away, some falling to the ground, but he didn't care.

peter wasted to time, swept your sundress up while you desperately unbuckle his belt. he pushed your panties aside, pulling down his boxers to reveal his hardened cock.

the red tip was already leaking precum.

he lines his cock with your aroused cunt before slamming into you, earning a loud moan from your mouth. your hands fly to his brown curls, pulling them a little.

peter lets out a low groan, and starts his fast and harsh thrust. he had no mercy, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as you shut your mouth in order to stay quiet.

peter kept moaning and whimpering in your ear, his each thrust hitting your sweet spot making you squirm beneath him, knowing that you can't make a loud noise.

even though, his thrusts were getting sloppy, peter didn't stop. pumping in and out of you like a crazy maniac, the desk moving with him.

the sound of skin slapping filled the room. you felt a familiar knot forming in your stomach, realizing that you are close, you clench around peter which made his hip stutter.

"oh— fuck, (y/n), just like that." he grunts in your ears. you do as he pleases, clenching around him. peter throws his head back, closing his eyes before looking at you.

your face scrunched up in pleasure, mouth agape as you felt peter hand cup your cheeks. he leaned in you, capturing you into a kiss while his thrusts never stopping.

"p-peter, i'm so close." you whispered against his lips, a small string of saliva connected between you and peter's lips.

"cum, fuck, please cum with me." he practically begged and you nod, releasing it all along side with him. his warm liquid shooting inside you as peter slows his pace.

both of you out of breath, covered in sweat. taking a moment to breathe. "best sex ever!" he says in joy, extending his hand for you to high-five him.

you laugh, slapping his palm with yours, obviously out of breath. "we should do it in your class more often."

© modernstoner

𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟.

college! peter parker x fem reader.

18+ only !!! f! receiving oral sex. peter parker has an oral fixation i said what i said. in my spider-man era again.

peter was a weekly visitor at this point. sometimes, it was twice, but never more than three. three was pushing it.

Three said that Peter meant something to you, and you couldn’t have that. No, whatever this was between the pair of you was strictly transactional. It was Peter texting you late at night, the classic, you up? Gracing your screen, and every time, you would pretend to be annoyed.

As if Peter coming around to give you the greatest head of your life was an inconvenience. Tempted, the devil on your shoulder smirking, to type back, Jesus, again? but never doing it. Instead, you wrote: sure.

Still, it plagued your mind. He never asked for anything else.

It was as if he did this purely for himself.

“Oh fuck,” you mewled, clenching down tight. The hand that was wrapped around Peter’s brown curls clutched and tugged, and the unconscious movement earned you a chastised groan. It rumbled through your cunt, and the echo shot to your clit, making you close your eyes and lean back, wet mouth spilling his name into your dorm.

Peter liked hearing you.

Liked seeing you lose your mind with his head between your thighs, your pussy wet and throbbing from his mouth and fingers. It’s why he came around often. Sometimes, he wouldn’t even text, would just knock on your door -- looking sheepish from under his dark curls -- and just. Not. Say. Anything.

His silence was answer enough. You knew what he wanted. Or, needed, as you later figured out, as you saw how red he’d gotten when you told him he couldn’t come around for a bit. When you said something about focusing on exams, he’d come over anyway, whined, shuffled his feet and said, You can do your work, I just gotta…I’ll be quick.

The lack of explanation made your mind swirl. But regardless, you’d let him in and did your work with his head between your thighs. He’d tutored you, too, told you how to solve for x with his fingers inside of you. He’d said, if you let me make you come again, I’ll do your Maths work for the next week. After he’d left, you stared at the scene of the crime in pure silence.

Just…reflecting.

Peter fluttered his tongue over your swollen clit. Focused on swirling it around his tongue in sloppy, wet circles, and the thick desire that swelled between your thighs began to pool at your lower back, forcing you to arch up into it.

“Please,” you wept, even though he was giving you what you wanted. Flat on your back with his deft grip keeping your bare thighs open. It was 8 pm. He’d caught you just after your shower, so the smell of your shampoo and body wash wafted through the air – Lavender and pear.

Peter had spread you open and said you smelled like spring. You’d been far too turned on to comment on it. He grumbled into your cunt, and you managed to work out the word, more? You hummed, too drunk on him and wound tight to verbalise that yes, you wanted more. Wanted him to make you come, and come again, till all you could do was mumble his name and focus on your breathing.

He'd learnt how you liked it. Paid attention, and he was getting full scores as he pushed his tongue flat against your swollen clit and sucked. Your vision went white.

“Oh fuck – ohfuck, Peter—” you squirmed, but Peter was strong, and he held you to the bed with his vice-like grip, wordlessly saying take it take it take it.

He lapped at you, salvia drooling over your cunt and down his chin, soaking the sheets. He was always so careless. In moments like this, that nervous edge that always fluttered around him was gone, replaced by a visceral drive to either please you, or get what he wanted.

The two bled into each other.

His tempo was leisurely, but that didn’t stop the heat from washing over you all at once.

You clamped your thighs around his ears and moaned -- loud, so loud that you were sure the other students on your floor heard.

Still, the ache was erratic, “So good,” you sobbed, and you heard yourself, heard the near primal need in your voice, and the desperation made you embarrassed, made you cover your mouth with your palm and grip the sheets, willing yourself to cool it. 

“Move your hand, or I’ll stop,” he uttered against you, and your clit was so sore that the echo of his words made your eyes roll back. Peter must have seen, as he hummed a laugh, and kissed your inner thigh, “lemme hear you.”

Managing to gain some sense of sanity, you blearily blinked down at him, but all sense of stability you thought you had was wiped away when you saw Peter had his hand stuffed down his pants.

You dropped back onto the bed and sobbed.

You knew he got off on this, but Jesus Christ, you’d never seen that before.

“Gotta be kidding me,” you breathed, and Peter must have understood what you were referencing, as he buried his reddening face into your inner thigh. He let out a breathy chuckle, “’ M’sorry,” he mumbled, “usually I wait till I get home, but you’re just so hot.”

You had to stay completely still, or you’d burst. Usually, I wait till I get home?

Peter moved his face and began nuzzling the wet folds of your pussy. He bumped his nose against your clit, and you quietly choked.

Peter hummed, “couldn’t help myself.”

You figured he did something like that, but the admission made your thighs tense. You pictured him stumbling home – cheeks still wet with you – and tugging his pants down, quickly shoving his hands into his boxers and taking hold of his aching cock. Did he whimper when he came? Or was he silent, all tremors and low grunts? No. He definitely whimpered.

He was far too pretty to stay quiet.

The sudden desire to kiss him swept over you.

Reaching down, you tugged at his curls, wordlessly motioning him to move. When he did, you briefly saw the red of his cheeks and wet of his nose before you kissed him, all tongue, and tasted yourself on his pink lips.

Peter melted into you. Huffed your name like a sigh, and the sheer tenderness of it had you wrapping your legs around his back and pressing your bare cunt against his jeans.

He was rock-hard. Tentatively, you ran your nails over his chest, and dipped low, pressing between his thighs, cupping his bulge, and gently squeezing. Peter wept.

“Oh fuck,” he sobbed, as desperate as you imagined. With one hand in his hair and the other on his cock, you continued to kiss him, until the ache between your thighs became too much to bear.

“Make me come,” you whispered, “and I’ll put you in my mouth.”

Peter had never moved so fast in his life.

↻ twt links!

a collection of twt links i relate to various men.

checking ur socials w/ plug!connie

bakugo who gets impatient when u ride him

convincing plug!connie to get u them new shoes u seen u wanted

plug!connie being gentle with u

plug!connie being a recorder + watching himself in the cam x

plug!connie recording you throwin yo shit back on him

plug!connie is fosho an ass man

type shit plug!connie sends to the guys on ur snap

🥺🥺putting it back in when it slips out w/plug!connie

plug!connie's fav position obv!!!!!!!!

plug!connie & bimbo!reader

dry humping peter while may's home

peter (has his own oral fixation) who loves playing w ur pretty mouth

Title: 𝒶 𝓅𝑜𝓊𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝒻𝓁𝑒𝓈𝒽

Pairing: Apollo!Peter Parker x Cassandra!Reader

Summary: Not even the gift of foresight will keep you from the God who calls you his.

Warnings: Dark!God AU, Stalking, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Dubcon/Noncon, MINORS DNI!

A/N: whew! back from hiatus with my very late entry for the amazingly talented @thanatosfic’s 1K Greek Myths challenge! the real challenge was keeping this under 5k—i literally just barely squeaked by lmao. it’s been a minute, so i know i’m a bit rusty, but i hope you all enjoy anyway. ❤️ divider by @whimsicalrogers

You run because you have to—because you see. He never should have let you see, Peter knows that now. It was meant to be a gift, a glimpse into existence the way they saw it, but it was a mistake.

Humans were never meant to know the future.

At least, that is what he reasons as he pursues you.

You already had a touch of prophecy without Apollo’s gift—his gift. It was what had caught his attention the first time, when your soul was young, and you hadn’t yet learned not to trust him. Just a hint of foresight. That’s what had caught his eye.

But humans are quick and clever—that’s what he would come to learn, especially about you. You who had taken his gift but spurned him. You would make him chase you to the ends of the earth—beyond, had you the power. You were looking at him now, he could tell as he explored the recently abandoned hut that had served as your home in the weeks you had evaded him.

Peter kicks over the camping stove with frustration, carding his fingers through his curly brown hair. It’s been abandoned for a week at least, maybe more. He’d caused this, his eagerness spilling over into the dreams. He shouldn’t have shown you images of yourself, writhing in pleasure underneath his touch—you’re too headstrong for such a direct approach.

He leans down to inspect the bed, lifting the top sheet to his nose and inhaling deeply. It still smells like you, a little. He sighs. It’s been so long since he’s held you the way he wants to—centuries.

Lifetimes.

The lingering scent of you stirs him, and Peter palms himself through his jeans. There was a time before he woke, where he was just Peter, and Peter alone.  He still doesn’t know what happened, when a second set of eyes opened up underneath his, and someone else slipped inside his skin with him. Or was it that he’d used to be someone else? It was confusing to think about the time before this mattered—before you mattered.

He is both now. He is Peter and more now—

He is Peter the God.

Fuck, to have you, finally—the thought makes Peter shudder with pleasure as he undoes his jeans and ruts into his own hand. He’s getting closer, bridging the gap you’ve built between yourself and him bit by bit. He swipes a thumb across the head of his cock, pretending it’s you who’s touching him. He hasn’t had this body yet, hasn’t tasted of you wearing this skin, and the newness of it excites him.

He knows you’re watching as he spills onto the dirty sheets, knows you’ll see him closing in on you, but that’s fine.

You’re out of places to run.

——

“And what brings you in today? I see here on your resume you have some experience in office administration.” The faded silver nameplate pinned to the older woman’s threadbare blouse reads Shirley, and her plastic looking smile parts to reveal lipstick stained teeth.

You force a weak smile of your own. You can’t tell her the truth—the truth that sounds insane even when you think it in your head.

“I’ve just always liked Seattle, and since I’ll be in the area for a bit—”

“Portland.” Her smile widens unpleasantly.

“W-what?”

“This is Portland.”

Shit. Seattle was last month. “Y-yeah. No, sorry, I just moved from Seattle.” You correct yourself hastily. Seattle had been good. Six long months without the visions, the all-too-real dreams that left you drained and terrified.

Without him.

“And was this the sort of work you were doing in Seattle?” The sickly sweet lilt of her voice makes you nauseous. You know what she’s doing—digging—and you want to protest, if you do, you know you can kiss this temp job goodbye. Your righteous indignation won’t pay for the hotel room you’re staying in, or put gas in your jeep or food in your stomach. You want to keep running, but you can’t—not without money.

“Yes, it was. On a more permanent level,” you add, knowing it’s what she wants to hear. It doesn’t matter that you’ll be gone in two months—maybe less, if the dreams pick up again.

“Hmm.” She thumbs through the little packet containing your application, resume and references, and you try not to fidget as she does so. You don’t want her to call up any of the people listed—hell, not even the companies, considering you’d up and left without so much as a see you later when you’d realized how close you had allowed him to get.

“Well. Everything looks to be in order…” She places the manila folder down with a snap. “I’ll make the call. You should hear from them no later than tomorrow afternoon with your hours. Please be on time.”

“Thank you so much, Shirley.”

“Mrs. Harscombe.” She corrects you with an oily smile. “And you’re quite welcome.” You know you shouldn’t risk looking into Shirley Harscombe, you know it’s only a waste of your time and energy, and it’ll only lead the Peter-Apollo-thing to you that much faster, but you’re doing it before you really mean to, peering into her future and all its possibilities. It’s like being swept down a raging river and all of it’s streams all at once, and her life thrums around you like a heartbeat.

You see Shirley standing in her kitchen as her husband berates her with a beer in his hand. You blink, and there’s Shirley—opening a second bank account, a secret bank account so that her husband—Ben is his name—doesn’t drink away all of their retirement funds, or else she’ll have to work till she’s seventy. You blink—and there is Shirley.

Smiling smugly at you as she gloats over the scrap of power she wields. You don’t feel angry at Shirley—not anymore.

“Have a good day.” You gather your bag and sweater as she stamps something on your file and enters it into the system with a few keystrokes on her computer. You head for the door, but linger in the threshold, hesitating.

“Mrs. Harscombe?” She looks up at you with the same thin smile, like an adult humoring an irritating child. “Separate bank accounts isn’t enough. You should leave him.” She sputters after you as you walk out of the door, down the hallway and out into the gray afternoon.

—

You hear from the nursing home the very next day, and by the middle of the week, you’re already well adjusted to your new schedule. Everything is simple enough, and aside from the occasional rude patient, you have little to complain about. The physicians and nurses are nice enough, and they don’t ask too many questions about your life outside of work, and you appreciate that more than anything.

Your check deposits on the first Friday with ease, and you pay for another week of your hotel room up front. You don’t dream, either. Only blissful darkness greets you when you close your eyes, and you’re more grateful for that than anything. Not having to see Peter’s curly brown hair or boyish, lopsided grin as he greets you in your dreams is a blessing.

Those fucking dreams.

It’s too real, his phantom touch lingering on your skin hours after you wake.

You used to wonder who he was before, but it doesn’t really matter, not now. Not now that thing had attached itself to him like a leech. You don’t know what happens when something rides your soul, wears you like a costume, but you don’t want to find out.

I won’t.

Your resolve doesn’t sound as strong as it used to, not even in your own head. It doesn’t help that you’re exhausted, running on fumes with less and less time in between your harrowing escapes. Not for the first time, you cast a narrowed glare upward, not really at your ceiling but beyond it, at whatever cosmic forces had dealt you such a cruel hand.

It’s not everyone that has a mad God after them.

It’s the waiting that’s the hardest.

The first few times you’d been naive. You’d truly believed you had shaken him of your scent—and so you had started fresh. New hair, new clothes, new I.D., new you. Peter would never find you, and his delusions would never again darken your door—at least, that was what you’d believed.

What a fool you had been.

And your shock to see him sitting in your new apartment, his feet perched on the coffee table as he thumbed through your magazines—nothing had ever matched up to it, before or since.

“Hi, princess. I missed you.”

And he’d truly thought he had you then—and so had you, really, until the bus had turned him into a bloody smear on the pavement. You didn’t look back then, and you still don’t now. You don’t know how he’s still alive, how the thing infesting him managed to draw life back into his mangled body, but you do know it means he won’t stop.

He won’t stop ever.

And so you wait. You wait for the tense buzzing in the back of your skull, for the sound of his laughter in the darkness of your dreams—

You wait for him.

__

“He’s looking for you.” The voice makes your head snap up, your fingers tightening on the edge of the reception desk. Mrs. O’Malley is sitting in her wheelchair, her tight, displeased expression flooding you with relief, and then annoyance. Your heart is pounding against your ribs, and you try to slow it as you give her a wan, impatient smile.

“Boris?” You ask, jerking your head towards the slumbering orderly in the corner. Mrs. O’Malley is the sort of woman who likes telling people what to do and how to do it, a habit that you assume has only gotten worse with time, turning her from bossy to battleaxe.

“I don’t think he’s looking for anything except the back of his own eyelids. Is there something I can get for you?”

“Not him,” she snaps, scoffing. “The boy,” she leans close, like she’s telling you a secret. “The one with laurels in his hair.” Your stomach fills with hot lead, and your throat grows painfully tight.

No.

“W-what?” Your thin smile is frozen on your face, but it isn’t a smile anymore, just a terrified grimace that won’t slip from your paralyzed features. “I—your medicine—” You fumble clumsily for the nurse-alert button on your desk, knocking over a cup of pens in the process. Mrs. O’Malley’s voice is like dry, withered reeds, but her grip is like iron when she grips your wrist.

“He’s looking for you,” she repeats, her bony fingers digging into your skin. “The boy with eyes that burn like the sun, bright, bright—” You rip yourself away from her, hissing as her nails rake long, red lines down the skin of your  forearm. You slam your fist down on the button as she launches herself across the desk.

“Stop! Get the fuck off me—” There shouldn’t be this much strength left in Mrs. O’Malley’s arthritis-bent fingers as she tears at the sleeves of your sweater, trying to get a better hold on you.

“Don’t run from him!” She screeches, spittle flecking your cheeks. She’s shaking you like a rag doll, her fingers driving into the meat of your shoulders like needles. “Stop running from him!” Your head is snapping back and forth so hard you think your neck might actually break, and through her shrieking, you can hear the sound of frantic footsteps.

Someone wrestles the old woman off of you, and you lay there, staring dizzily up at the humming fluorescent lights. How could she know that? You aren’t cold, but your skin prickles anyway, like you’re being watched.

The boy with the laurels in his hair.

You don’t wait to watch as the orderlies to wrestle Mrs. O’Malley onto a gurney, strapping her flailing limbs down to the thin mattress while she rages. Her nonsensical shouts echo down the hallway as they wheel her off.

“Don’t run from him! Eyes like the sun!”

By the time Boris turns to check on you, an apologetic smile on his face,  you’re already gone, half running down the darkening street.

—

The lobby of the hotel is as you left it that morning, empty and quiet. The receptionist doesn’t look up from her copy of People as you hurry by, already tallying up your meager belongings in your head. You have escaping down to a science now, a list of steps to take before you can throw yourself into the driver’s seat of your old jeep to race as far as your tank will take you, only to begin it all over again.

You aren’t neat about it, throwing open the door to your hotel room, the thud of the handle meeting the wall mixing easily with the noise of the city nightlife floating in through your window. Before it even closes, you’re already shoving what little clothing you have into a worn duffel bag. You’re chanting in your head, listing all the items you know you can’t forget.

Toothbrush. Phone. Wallet. Laptop.

You leave the scrubs you scavenged from Goodwill over the shower railing, where you’d hung them to dry after a vigorous hand-washing, and you leave your third or fourth hand nurses shoes there too, along with the key-card with your fake name on it. You won’t need those where you’re going.

Where am I going?

The thought makes you pause, your hands stilling on the pair of jeans you’re stuffing into your bag. You’re not sure. You’ve never moved with a plan, any sort of pattern, but that isn’t what makes you stop—no. It’s the larger question, the one that looms constantly over you. Closer to the front when you’re sleeping in the driver’s seat and taking bird baths in truck station bathrooms, but distant when you’re comfortable in hotel beds.

Where is your life going?

You try not to think about it, to push the thought back, back—but it won’t go. It stays stuck in your proverbial craw like toffee, only more unpleasant. Is this all there is? Running and hiding like a fucking rat? Your own grim expression meets your eye when it drifts to the mirror above the dresser.

Is it better than the alternative?

You finish shoving your clothes and most prized possessions into your few bags before shouldering them with a heavy sigh.

“South, maybe,” you say aloud, knowing you won’t go south at all—you’ll go east, to the big cities, to where you can get lost just like all the other souls. You reach for the doorknob and tug it open, stepping out into the hallway—

And right into a solid, warm body.

“Oh, sorry, I—”

“No need to apologize, princess.”

Your blood turns to ice, your chest tightening painfully. It isn’t possible, you know it isn’t—but it is and it must be because he’s here. It’s disgusting how certain you are, even without seeing his face. How sure, because the scent of him hasn’t changed, the piney aftershave and shampoo that’s just so Peter. There’s something warm and spiced underneath it, something that reminds you of warm sun on a summer day.

He smells like this in the dreams, too.

“Did you miss me?” He asks, reaching forward to curl a lock of your hair around his finger. “I missed you.” You’re frozen, unable to react, to move as he releases your hair to draw his knuckle over the curve of your cheek. It’s deceptively soft, almost reverent. “How long’s it been, princess? Two years? Three?”

You don’t have anywhere else to go but back, tripping over the threshold and into the hotel room. Peter follows, stepping gracefully into the room. He wrinkles his nose as he takes in your threadbare surroundings,  his lips pressing into a grim line. Peter kicks at your bags, forgotten on the floor as you’d scrambled away from him.

He takes a step towards you, and you go for the folding knife hidden in your jacket. Peter’s expression doesn’t shift at all, except perhaps to go a bit softer, like the sight of your fear and desperate defense is somehow endearing. You brandish it anyway, holding it like the self-defense teacher in Arizona taught you.

“S-stay back,” you croak, your throat tightening as he disregards your warning with another step. “Peter stop!”

“Or what, princess?” He asks, and his voice sounds… amused. “What? You’ll stab me? You can’t hurt me anymore.” Peter looks down at his own hands, flexing them as if becoming familiar with their function. “Nothing can hurt me anymore.”

Peter stands between you and the door, his brown eyes going molten gold as he stares at you. Your fingers tremble around the handle of your knife.

“You don’t have to do this.” You hate that it comes out as a plea, desperate and weak. “This doesn’t have to be what happens here, Peter—”

“You know what happens now, seer.” It’s Peter’s voice—but not, at the same time. “Look,” he says mockingly. “Tell me what you see.” You don’t want to, not with him there, but you can’t help it. You expect to see possibilities bloom before you like flowers in an open field, but instead, there is only one.

You see yourself. Behind you sprawls a vast estate, overlooking the sea. You blink, and suddenly you are beside yourself, only literally, close enough to feel your own breath on your face. You are swathed in soft, white fabric—Peter always did love you in white—and your belly curves outward through the layers of your dress, easy to see. And at your neck, a wide, shimmering gold necklace emblazoned with the sun. No, not a necklace.

A collar.

Peter’s hand on your chin is what brings you back, his thumb wiping gently at the tears streaming down your cheeks. His smile is wide, manic, as he pries the knife from your trembling fingers before your brain forgets to close them around the handle.

“No!” You gasp, pushing at his hands as you gulp down a lungful of air.  It’s like the scene from your second sight is tattooed on the insides of your eyelids, revealing itself again and again. You can almost feel the heavy gold around your throat, the sun sigil too warm against your skin—

“No, no, no-!” You shriek and struggle in his arms, your eyes wide and fearful. Peter bears it patiently, allowing you to beat at his chest with open palms and then closed fists as your gasps turn to ragged sobs. For all your fight,  Peter only wraps his arms around you tighter.

“Get off, get off me! Fuck you!” You rake one hand down his face, and he doesn’t flinch as you scratch jagged, bloody lines down his cheek. They close up almost as soon as you do it, but you feel satisfaction when he frowns.

“I know you’re upset, princess. You’ve been running so long,” he croons, but you shake your head, still struggling in his iron grip as Peter presses you against the wall. His lips drag along your cheek, and you feel them curve against your skin. He’s pleased. Even as his skin flakes away under your fingernails, he doesn’t care.

You scream.

Long, and loud, and finally, finally Peter stops moving. Your head bangs against the wall as you lean back, staring up at the ceiling as you pant.

“Are you done with the hysterics?” Peter asks, cocking his head. You’re not sure if he means to be cruel, or if it’s just a byproduct of the thing squatting in his skin, but it doesn’t matter because it cuts all the same.

“What are you going to do to me?” You ask, still not looking at him, not bothering to respond to his barb. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I’m going to give you everything you ever wanted.”

Somehow, it’s the worst thing he could have said.

Peter grasps your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to look him in the eye as he begins inching his hand under the hem of your shirt. This too is familiar—maybe you saw it, maybe you dreamt it, but it doesn’t matter now that Peter—Apollo—is sliding his hand up your shirt, under your bra—

“No one is coming, princess. It’s just me,” he undoes the clasps deftly, “and you.” Peter’s thigh begins to slide up between your own, and you push uselessly at him. He clucks his tongue.

“Princess, this is the deal you made. Sorry you’re sore about it—oooh,” his admonishment becomes a sharp intake of breath as he tugs the collar of your shirt down hard enough to tear it, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

“You’re so pretty, baby.” He says, his words punctuated by the sound of ripping fabric.

“Fuck you,” you spit. “I’m not her. I didn’t make a deal!” You hiss. You try to go for his face again, but Peter neatly pins your arms above your head. “Peter, Peter please—”

“You are, though,” he says softly, dropping a kiss on the tip of your nose. “You’re her. She’s you. In here,” he shifts your wrists to one and, anchoring them as he drops a finger to the valley between your breasts. Peter brushes the halves of your shirt aside. “I know you know, princess,” he says patiently. “I know you feel it. How heavy your soul is, how many lifetimes its had.” You hate the pitying way he clucks his tongue, the way your stomach tightens with anger and fear because he’s right. You’re heavier than lead—and you hate that he knows it.

“Aren’t you ready to rest?”

You can practically feel it, the collar around your neck. Peter twists your nipple, and when you gasp, he presses his mouth to yours.  He’s warm, like sun filtering down onto your skin. Peter tastes of summer rain as his tongue sweeps over your own. He groans into your mouth, and there’s a sick, terrible tightness that grows in your stomach at the sound.

You’ve never had time for relationships, your lifestyle hasn’t been particularly conducive to romance. Beyond a couple of clumsy, regrettable hookups in bars, your own hands are the only ones to have brought you any pleasure. You don’t like the way your cunt pulses and aches as Peter’s thigh presses into you, the way heat travels like white lightning down your spine when he twists your nipples between his fingertips.

“I hate you,” you grit out against his mouth.  You don’t know why tears gather in your eyes as you say it. “I hate you!”

Peter hums. “I know, princess.” His tongue is soft on the skin of your throat, and when you swallow, he grins again. “But you won’t, always.”

There’s nowhere for you to go, stuck between Peter’s hard chest and the wall. It feels like he wants to touch you forever, caressing your face, pressing his fingers into your hips, cupping your breasts through the torn fabric of your shirt. His questing fingers dip into your panties, moaning softly against your skin when he finds you wet.

“See?” He says with a chuckle. “I think you’re starting to like me a little already.” You can’t help but feel disgusted and betrayed by your body as the little circular motions of his fingertip around your clit coax more wetness from you. You whimper, trying and failing to close your thighs around his hand.

Peter leans away from you, finally releasing your wrists from their position above your head so that he can cup your chin, forcing you to look at him as his other hand works steadily between your thighs. His sweet, chocolate brown eyes are both soft and warm like honey, and yet brilliant and burning suns in his eye sockets, rivulets of gold running down his cheeks as his smile widens.

You’re not sure which is real as your cunt clenches around the invading length of his fingers. It’s not supposed to send heat rushing through you when Peter’s teeth drag down the line of your throat, humming with pleasure as more wetness drips down his wrist, smearing against your inner thighs.

“You’re so tight, princess,” he laughs softly against your skin. The breaths that escape your throat are ragged and hard even to your own ear, each punctuated by the slick, wet noise of him stretching you open around his knuckles. “If I didn’t know you’d already let someone else have was rightfully mine, I’d think no one had fucked you before.”

Peter pulls his fingers from you, holding them in front of your face so that you can see how wet they are before he sucks them between his lips.

“Tastes sweet, too.” His weight lifts from you, and you watch as Peter takes a single step back. “Take it off. All of it.”

“Peter—”

He grabs for you then, patience worn thin at last. You slap at his hands, pushing at them unsuccessfully as Peter wrestles you to his chest, holding you as easily as he would a willful child. He tosses you to the bed, and the air leaves your lungs in a hoarse shout as your back meets the firm mattress. Peter tears your leggings down your thighs, threads snapping and tearing in his grip, and tosses them away, forgotten. Your head is caged between his hands, and there is no place else to look but at him.

“Still running, huh, princess?” His voice is cold as he stares down at you. You don’t know how eyes so bright could be so dark. So empty. “Maybe we should make it so you can’t. I think that would be best for everyone.” You know he isn’t giving you a choice, and your face cracks with horror at his words.

“Peter, please.”

He nudges your thighs apart with his own, the fabric of his jeans scraping against your skin as he slots his hips down against yours. Peter reaches between you, and your eyes widen at the sound of his zipper.

“What are you so afraid of, princess?” He asks, and you swallow a surprised  moan as the hot, heavy length of his cock presses against your slick folds. Peter hisses with pleasure, his head lolling back while he slowly rolls his hips into yours. His chin drops to his chest as Peter fixes you with a knowing look. “That you might like it?”

His cock bumps against your clit with every pass, and you whine, writhing underneath him. You hate that it feels good—better than good, better than your own hand ever has. There is something molten and hot in your veins, and Peter put it there—infected you with the hot pleasure in your belly. He draws back, only to drive forward sharply. His cock pushes against the tightness of your entrance for a moment, and then slides neatly inside.

It punches the air from your lungs in a ragged cry, the burning stretch of his cock inside you driving you to tangle your fingers in the sheets as you gape up at him, wide eyed. You’re so full, every bit of extra space inside of you is full up of Peter, and he groans, drawing out only to sink back in even deeper. Tears leak from the corners of your eyes as Peter splits you apart, his cock throbbing.

“That’s it,” he praises you, fingers digging into your left hip as he lays into your swollen, aching cunt. “See, princess your mouth can lie,” Peter pulls out slowly, glorying in the slick noise of his exit. “But this sweet fucking pussy?” You let out a garbled moan as he thrusts back into you with abandon. “She can’t.”

Every thrust jars you, leaves you raw and panting under the onslaught. Peter’s hands are everywhere, pinching and twisting your nipples, holding your hips still as he rocks into you, his cock pushing up against your cervix. You want to resist it, the sharp pleasure building at your core, but every thought is eaten by it, eroded until it’s all you can focus on.

“Feels like you need this,” Peter pants, hooking his arms underneath your thighs as he presses them to your chest. “Needed me.” You keen as his cock punches into you, dragging along your swollen, sensitive walls. You shake your head defiantly, and Peter’s fingers press into the meat of your thighs hard enough to bruise.

“I—don’t—need—you,” you grit out through his thrusts. Peter’s face darkens, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, he seems to dig into you deeper, and the pleasure begins bordering on pain.

“It isn’t nice to lie, princess,” Peter says lowly. “I can feel you squeezing me like your life depends on it.” You know he’s right, you can already feel the pleasure building in your blood, tension tightening in your belly. Peter slides a hand between you, his fingers plucking at your clit as you whine.

“N-no-fuck, I—” You try to deny it, but the words devolve into babble. You’re falling, crumbling under his assault as your cunt clenches tightly around him. Pleasure, sickly sweet and unwelcome floods through you, curdling your resistance as you drown in it.

It feels good to let go.

Peter’s hips still against you and he groans low, his head dropping to his chest as his fingers squeeze your hips.

“Don’t worry, princess,” his breath washes over your cheeks as his hand comes to rest on the swell of your belly. “I think the baby will look good on you.”

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Peter Parker p links!

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— Tobey!Peter

blindfolding you to keep his identity secret

Peter filling your pussy up after you’ve begged for it all day

cozy evening fucking

jerking off bigdick!Peter

riding his face

⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡ ⟡

— Andrew!Peter

showing Peter your tongue trick

Peter loves his alt girlfriend

first time trying anal together

making sure he breeds your little pussy

him cumming all over your body

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— Tom!Peter

playing with your sensitive pussy

movie night at Peter’s place

getting pounded in the bathroom

sucking him off while he games

Peter using your pussy to let out some pent up anger

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@alanangels @laughingphantoms @lyd14-d33tz @imnotmanu @fandoms-are-my-hOme @avatarobsessedgirly @jul-es @swagskeletongiantdreamer @someblessedmonster @spideyswebz @tpwknjj @ansaturn @ariharlow17 @mikisworls @abzyisinsane @yoyo4544 @peterisinapickle @jypiecesgf @jade-is-jaded @lovelymax10 @cindrness @cece969 @xcallmewhatevrrx

Kinktober Day 2-Peter Parker(Biting/Scratching)

Sorry it's late but im lazy, hope you enjoy.

TW: Unprotected sex, biting and "scratching"

Words: 533

May fell asleep a while ago but Peter just wanted to be extra safe before doing what he wanted to do. 

He looked over to his aunt one more time to triple check she was asleep before moving his hand, that was originally around his girlfriends hips, down a bit further. 

Her head was on his arm, watching the movie when she felt his hand go into her pj shorts and rub her slit. 

He took his middle finger and slowly pushed his finger inside her, causing her to bite her lip to keep in the sound she so desperately wanted to make. 

After a couple seconds, he pulled his finger out, causing her to whine. 

He tutted in her ear, pulling down his sweats just enough to release his cock and then slowly lowering her pj shorts. 

He slowly rubbed his cock up and down her slit a few times before inserting himself inside. 

She turned her head towards his arm and bit down to stop the loud moan she wanted to release. 

He started pumping, going faster and faster until she was biting his arm, which may have caused him to bleed a little bit.  

She was gripping his arm so tight, she left nail imprints on them. 

He looked down at her, his breathing starting to become short. 

“I'm about to cum baby but I need you to cum first. Can you do that love? Huh?” Peter whispered in her ear.

She nodded and closed her eyes as soon as she felt his finger rubbing her clit. 

“Oh my gosh Pete, Im cumming petey oh my godddd” She whispered to him, running her nails up his arm before forcing it over her mouth to help stop the big moan she let out as she came. 

He continued rubbing her slowly helling her come down but also helping him cum as well. 

And a couple minutes later, he pulled out before cumming all over her back. 

He moaned in her ear as he came and she sighed as she felt his warm release. 

The sigh almost sounded relieved, as if she’s been waiting for this to happen. 

He took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to her lips.

They quickly pulled away when they heard shuffling next to them and they both looked over to see may turning over to face them. 

They both held their breath, but once she did a little snore, they both released a breath. 

They looked at eachother and giggled before she quickly pulled her shorts up and stood up, on shaky legs. 

Peter raised an eyebrow as if to ask what she's doing. 

And she just pointed to the end of the movie credits and whispered she was gonna go to the bathroom to change her shirt. 

He just nodded and stood up too. 

He looked at may again before, walking over to her, covering her with the blanket by her feet, and turned off the tv. 

Then he went to his room, to find his girl already laying there, waiting for him. 

He smiled and closed his door, walking towards the bed and joining her. 

Both immediately falling into a long ass sleep.

P.s I love you

Peter Parker x fem!Reader

It was around midnight and I was sitting down at my desk, trying to complete my English paper that's due in the morning. I was finishing up the 3rd paragraph when I heard the sound of light tapping noises on my window. Knowing it was most likely my boyfriend Peter, I got up and walked over to the window, opening it for him.

When I pulled back the drapes, a light gasp escaped my mouth at the sight that was in-front of me. Peter was in his spiderman suit, which was littered with rips and stains. He had a black eye, a busted lip, and his entire body was stained with what I believe, and in the back of my mind, what I hoped, was his own blood.

I quickly unlocked the window, helping him in. "What the hell happened to you?" I whisper shouted.

He lifted his right leg over, stumbling into my room. I quickly grabbed onto his arm, trying to help him stabilize. I dragged him over to my bed, kneeling down in front of his legs, to examine his current state.

He had his head down, trying to not make eye contact with me. I let out a huff of annoyance as I got up from my kneeling position, "Wait here," I said, leaving my room so I could get some supplies.

Once I came back, he was sitting down on my bed, with the top of his suit off, revealing his toned abs. I walked over towards him, crouching down, giving him my best disappointed look. "Look—" He started, but I cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it."

Was that a little harsh? Yes, yes, it was.

But in my defense, he promised me that he'd take a break from fighting today, since he was already badly injured from a fight he had lost a few days ago. It hasn't even been 4 hours and he has already broken his promise.

Once I finished cleaning the blood off his face and chest, I left the room once again to dump out the blood-soaked water and to wash my hands. "Y/n, please don't be mad at me," Peter said, giving me his puppy dog eyes.

I ignored him, walking over to my dresser, pulling out a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt, which originally belong to Peter. I tossed it at him, sitting down at my desk so I could finish my essay.

A couple minutes go by and I hear him shuffling around. I assume, so he could change out of his suit. "Y/n—" He whined, hugging me from behind, and sticking his head into my neck.

"What?" I replied, harshly.

He spun my chair around so I was facing him. "I'm sorry," he said, taking my face into his hands and pressing a light kiss to my lips.

"Please forgive me?"

"Fine, but you better not show up at my window tomorrow all bloody," I said, pointing my index finger at him and giving him a jokingly stern look.

"yes ma'am," he laughed, pressing another kiss to my lips.

"Can we cuddle now?" He opened his arms wide, giving me a goofy smile.

I laughed at his expression. "I got to finish this." I said, showing him my computer.

"I'll do it for you if we can cuddle right now." He offered, raising an eyebrow.

"Fine," I gave in, knowing that if he did my assignment, I would most likely get a higher grade on the paper than I would if I did it.

I stood up from my chair to be immediately thrown over his shoulder. He walked over towards my bed, throwing me harshly on it before he got in as well, laying down on top of me and burying his head into the crook of my neck, his hair tickling me a little. "Good night Petey," I said.

He took his head out of my neck, giving me a disgusted look, making me laugh once again at his face expression. "Night," He mumbled, falling asleep on me.

*** The next morning, I woke up to be greeted by an empty bed. I groaned, sitting up as I looked at the clock. A small gasp escaped my lips when I realized that I was about to be late for school. I got up, sloppily putting on my outfit, before walking over towards my desk, praying that Peter hadn't forgotten to do the assignment. I scrolled down, feeling my heart flutter at what he had written. Not only did he finish my paper, but he also wrote a brief note at the bottom.

'Sorry, I had to leave. I didn't want to deal with Aunt May. Meet me under the bleacher at lunch. PS. I love you.'